


It's Not As If I've Lost My Mind

by magicalmolly



Series: Lost My Mind Duology [1]
Category: Beetlejuice - Fandom, Beetlejuice the musical - Fandom, Musical verse - Fandom, beetlejuice/lydia - Fandom, beetlejuice/lydia deetz - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Erotic Scenes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Ghost With The Most, Past Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, True Love, beetlebabe, mature content, say my name, sex scenes, some violence, talk about suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 68,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmolly/pseuds/magicalmolly
Summary: LOOSELY inspired by Beetlejuice The Musical.At twenty-seven years old Lydia Deetz has had a lot of trauma in her life, and has become all too familiar with death. On a rainy day visiting her mother's grave she runs into a friend from years ago, Beetlejuice; the demon who stopped her from committing suicide when she was seventeen. The two rehash everything they went through in the past and how their friendship slowly transformed from platonic to romantic, and how and why it all came crumbling down.
Relationships: Lydia Deetz/Beetlejuice, Lydia and Beetlejuice, Lydia/Beetlejuice
Series: Lost My Mind Duology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824076
Comments: 110
Kudos: 249





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

  
The name Emily was almost obscured by the overgrown moss and brambles covering the grave, hiding the writing like sun during a storm. Lydia cleared it away as best she could, the rain slick against the stone. Her black lace gloves were soaked through and her fingers were going numb from the chill. She held out the single red rose she brought with her on the train; already bent at the stem and two of the petals had fallen off over the course of the journey. She sighed and laid it down on top of the tombstone before sinking back on her heels, letting the rain berate her.

  
“You just couldn’t wait for a sunny day, could ya, babe?”  
Lydia looked up across the graveyard, the mist of the early evening had already woven itself into a thick layer across the sky. She squinted into the distance where she could make out a shadowy figure perched on another grave. She made her way to her feet as the figure crossed its legs.  
“You always were a weird little ghoul girl.”

  
She knew that voice. She walked towards it, and sure enough, as the fog thinned around her she found herself standing before one of the oldest graves in the cemetery with one of the oldest ghosts perched atop it. She smiled, and without thinking said: “Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.” The ghost smiled back at her and felt the tingle of electricity shoot through his body as her words carried their power through the air. He felt like a fire had been lit in his throat. He could almost scream it’d been so long since he’d spoken to anyone who could hear him. But he knew the kid would still be able to see him. She always had, even if she wasn’t really a kid anymore, Lydia Deetz was as strange and unusual as they come, she’d always be able to see and speak to the dead if they were willing to speak to her—and Beetlejuice wasn’t just willing, he’d been _waiting_.

  
He hopped off the grave and quickly made his way across the grass to her, taking her up in his arms, and she let out a small laugh as he swung her around. He could almost laugh at the sound himself, he hadn’t heard anything like it in years. Truth be told, neither had she. When he set her back down on the ground, her boots sinking into the mud, she looked back up at him from her short stature and he could almost choke on his own teeth with how brightly he wanted to smile at her. Her mouth was closed, her lips taut, but smiling nonetheless.

  
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” he said, taking her hands in his. She didn’t flinch at the clammy chill of his palms. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say those words.” It’d felt like ages since Lydia Deetz had left the ghostly Connecticut house for arts school.

  
“Been a long time, huh?” Lydia asked.

  
His smile faltered for a moment, and even Lydia was surprised. Was the stripped demon really showing…sorrow? But before she could question too much about it, he shook his head and gripped her hands tighter. “Fancy arts school keep ya away from me for a lot longer than I thought.” He eyed her up and down. She was still dressed all in black as she had been last he saw her, and her hair, while a bit longer, was still as black as a bird. But she was older. Much older than he thought she should be for just having gone away to school. “How long have you been gone, kid?”

  
“You…you don’t know?” He shook his head.

“Time moves differently when you’re dead.” Oh right, she thought. The ghost kept staring at her, she didn’t know what to say. Her hands went tense in his. “Lydia,” he said, finally using her name. “How old are you?”

  
Lydia bit her lip. “I’m twenty-seven.” She’d been eighteen when she left. His hands fell from holding hers, she reached out for his but he took a small step back. “Beetlejuice,” she said, taking a step towards him. “I can explain.”

  
“I thought you were going to school,” he said. “And that you’d be back.”

“I was planning on coming back.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

  
Lydia halted in her steps, the telltale signs of his anger were beginning to bubble up, and she knew that never lead to anything good (or safe). “Because,” she said.

  
“Because what?” He was seething now.

  
“Because someone died.” That stunted his anger momentarily. Neither the ghost nor the girl were any stranger to the subject of death, but it was still a dark topic to tackle, even between a dead demon and a morbid goth.

  
“Who?”

Lydia sighed. “Me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm the ghost with the most, babe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've seen the musical, this is a version of the scene where they sing "Say My Name," but with a much more somber tone & the ending takes a bit of a different turn from how it does in the stage show.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos on this story! I really appreciate it!

Chapter Two

  
It had stormed the night when Lydia first tried to take her life. It was pouring rain as she climbed out onto the roof clad in that ridiculous safety-pin laden dress Beetlejuice came to enjoy seeing her in. He was sitting on the roof himself, moping about the plight he was faced with in the form of the Maitlands and how painfully dull they were. He had finally started to build up hope that he’d get a living person to say his name, but their pitiful attempts at scares had killed that last shred of hopeful human emotion he’d managed to muster. But then there was Lydia. Standing before him, rain-soaked, shrouded in more lace and black than anyone outside of a coffin had a right to; reading her suicide note out loud like a Shakespearean soliloquy.

  
“I’m invisible,” she finished with a squeak in her voice, a sound she never would’ve dared let escape her throat if she knew anyone was listening.

  
“That makes two of us,” he said.

  
And then she did something that amazed him: She snapped her head up from staring down at her note and turned to look at him—directly at him. “Who the hell are you?”

He jumped to his feet, if he needed to breathe, he’d be breathless. “Can you…see me?”

“Of course I can see you,” she said, the sadness she’d shown just moments ago suddenly replaced with well-earned teenage annoyance, and a beautiful lack of stranger danger. “Why’re you on my roof?”

“Why are you on your roof giving a one woman performance of Suicide, Teenage Angst Edition.” Lydia scowled at him and he knew right away he’d become obsessed with that look on her face. He wanted to keep it going, this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. He strode across the roof to her and snatched the note out of her hands, turning it to flames with a snap of his fingers. Lydia’s mouth fell open as the flames vanished before her just as quickly as they’d appeared; the note was no more.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Such language kids have these days.”

She reached out with both hands and shoved him. She was tiny, and a teenager, and alive, and overly emotional, and he was bigger, and older, and dead, and hadn’t tasted true emotion in years. He was drinking her up, doing his best to get drunk. She tried to shove him again without achieving much and he laughed. She tried once more and he grabbed both of her wrists in his. He expected the normal fear humans and ghosts alike felt around him to finally overcome her, but to his immense surprise, it didn’t. Her annoyance still reigned, but he could see hiding right behind it was her sadness—all encompassing, weighing thousands of pounds. It was an anchor around her neck and she was drowning.

“We just met, doll,” he said, holding on tight to her. “Don’t get so handsy already.”

“Who are you!” She shouted.

He clamped a hand over her mouth and her eyes grew wide. Still no fear, but slight unease. “I’m the ghost with the most babe,” he whispered in her ear. “And today’s your lucky day.” She bit his palm. Hard. He laughed as he let her go and she stumbled back to get away from him.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I heard your little speech about being all alone, well now you’re not! And I’m not anymore either, because you can see me!”

“Why do you keep saying that? What? Are you invisible to everyone else?” She laughed uneasily to herself until the look on his face changed from mockery to something…sadder.

“Oh shit,” she said. “For real?”

“Told ya, I’m a ghost, babe.”

“Like the Maitlands?”

He scoffed. “I’m nothing like them, doll.”

She gave no response to that, and he could tell as her eyes danced back over to the edge that she was receding back into herself, back into the dark swirling pathways of her mind. He’d seen that look before—hell, he’d caused that look before—he knew it wouldn’t end well. He moved to stand in front of her, letting his arm slightly come out to her side, between them and the edge of the roof. He did his best to stretch his arm out far enough to not be obvious, but still far enough that he’d be able to catch her if she made a lunge for it.

“So you wanna kill yourself, huh?” She side-eyed him. God, he loved women. But this one—this one—was better than all the rest he’d met in awhile (a long while). “Dad’s ignoring you?” He just needed to get her talking, and that seemed to do the trick.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh, not one of annoyance this time, but one of desperation, an emotion he was used to seeing from humans, but coming from this little angel of death, it seemed out of place. “He wants everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.”  
Beetlejuice fake gagged, and Lydia couldn’t help but smile. He noticed a slight shift in her feet; if he could loosen her up just a bit more, he could get her away from the edge.

“And I take it you want all thunder and lightning?” He asked her, his eyes glancing up to the doomsday sky above them. Lydia smiled again as she wiped some of the rain from her eyes. Her feet shifted again, but this time she didn’t move back, her boots slipped agains the slick rooftop and she began to tip forward. She was going to topple over the edge, and in that instant she wasn’t so sure she wanted to die. She opened her mouth to scream, arms flying out in front of her, but then Beetlejuice’s arms were around her waist, pulling her back. She instinctively held tight to his wrists as he pulled her back to standing, and slowly dragged her several paces away from the roof so they were back by her window. She looked back at him, short of breath, full of shock, her heart pounding in her chest. They locked eyes, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He could’ve let go of her by now—he should’ve let go of her by now—but he couldn’t ignore the fact that she didn’t try to move away from him.

“Th…thank you,” she whispered against the rain, the water dripping from her nose and lips.

He forced a smirk. “Told ya, kid, it’s your lucky day.”

She didn’t smile back, just gently shifted out of his grasp and took a few steps back, careful not to slip this time. But as she moved away he instinctively latched onto her arm. She looked down to where his cold, dead hand—more chilling than the rain—was gripping her, then back up to his green eyes. “Who are you?” She asked again. His fingers went limp and dropped her arm, but her eyes didn’t drop from his. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

“I’m Be—” his tongue tripped up in his mouth, the curse slamming into his teeth.

“Bee?” She asked to clarify. He shook his head.

“I can’t say my name.”

“Why?”

He shook his head again. “Doesn’t matter. But you can say it, and then everyone will be able to see me, not just you, and I’ll be able to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Make your dad pay for being all sunshine and rainbows.”

“You don’t even know why that bothers me.”

He shrugged. “Dollface, I don’t care. Anything for you.”

She bit back another slowly growing smile, she’d been bored and bereaved ever since the funeral; this was the first time she’d felt anything remotely close to joy in a long time. “You just met me, Bee.”

He took a step towards her and as he suspected, she didn’t back away. He was starting to like this girl. He found his uneasiness at her near death, and the feel of her body against his as he held her, beginning to melt away. “Doesn’t matter, babe, I can tell you’re worth it.”  
She wanted to laugh at all the pet names. She’d had a few suitors in her day, but none had ever donned her with such. She could tell this ghoulish guy was doing it as a joke, but it landed nicely nonetheless. “You wanna tell me why you’re furious about sunshine and rainbows?” He asked, sliding up next to her and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

Lydia studied him. Was he worth telling? Then again, who else did she have to tell? She’d told the Maitlands and they hadn’t been able to help, their comfort was too short lived. Maybe this guy could help. At the very least it was one more person willing to listen, and with how many walls of silence her dad had built over the course of the past six months, that alone would be monumental. “My mom died,” she said, doing her best to keep a poker face when she said the words. “Six months ago, and my dad won’t talk about her, won’t even say her name. He moved us here for a ‘fresh start,’ and I guess for him that fresh start includes Delia.” Beetlejuice raised his own eyebrows to signify a need for clarification. Lydia sighed. “My stepmom-to-be.”

“Ouch.” Lydia nodded. “So you wanted to die over that?”

Lydia finally broke their locked gaze to stare down at her boots. Beetlejuice felt something break along with her stare. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but it felt…cold. “Yeah I guess now that you say it out loud it seems pretty dumb.”

Lydia felt his cold hand give her shoulder a gentle squeeze as his arm pulled her in a bit closer to him. She wanted to look back at him, but she didn’t trust herself not to cry and she hadn’t let anyone see her cry since she was a kid. But she let herself relax into this stranger’s touch, just a bit. “Trust me, babe,” he said, leaning his head down a bit to close out their height difference. “I know death, and it’s anything but dumb.”

At that she did look back at him. “How can I learn your name if you can’t tell me?”

Beetlejuice couldn’t remember the last time he felt happiness, or anything even remotely like it, but those eleven words from this gloomy girl’s mouth brought him closer to it than he’d been in a millennia. “You can guess,” he said, a smile spreading back across his face. To his satisfaction, she smiled too.

“Okay, give me a clue.” “Name a bug.”

“A bug?” He nodded. “Ah…okay, ant?” He shook his head. “Fly?” No again. “Beetle?”

“Yes!”

“Your name’s Beetle?” She asked with a smirk.

This time Beetlejuice was the one to roll his eyes. “No. Name a drink.”

“Wine.”

“No.”

“Milk.”

“Nope.”

“Juice?” She said with an annoyed shrug.

Beetlejuice tugged her in even closer. “Bingo.”

“ _Beetlejuice_?”

“The one and only. Now all you gotta do is say it two more times. Speak it unbroken.”

“Why?”

He groaned. “Because that’s how it works, I didn’t make up the rules. Now you gotta start over. Say it three times in a row.”

Lydia shrugged. “Okay. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.”

He couldn’t believe it. It was so easy. So quick. He felt a jolt of electricity stronger than lightning crash through his body. He stumbled backwards, almost falling and this time it was Lydia who reached out for him, steadying him. He grabbed a hold of her too, and she jumped at the flicker of electricity she felt when he touched her. Once he had his bearings again they locked eyes.

“Well?” She said. “Did it work?”

  
“Babe,” he said slowly, smiling anew. “It’s showtime.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He realized the mistake in his words too late. Forget. Forget about her mom, that’s what her dad was trying to do, what Lydia had enlisted Beetlejuice’s help to fight against; forgetting. His grip loosened enough that she could take a step back away from him.
> 
> “You don’t care,” she said.
> 
> He took a step towards her. “Kid—” There was that word again kid. Everyone treated her like a kid, and the feelings of a kid couldn’t possibly matter in the grand scheme of things, right? She shook her head at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos! I'm glad you're all enjoying the story, I'm having so much fun writing it.  
> -Molly :)

Chapter Three

Over a decade later and Lydia’s words have brought Beetlejuice back to that fateful day when their worlds collided. When this little goth temptress brought a spark of life to his world. Now, the rain came down on them like it did back then on the roof, she was still young, still glowing beneath the layers of black lace. She was still Lydia, though her eyes carried a little more sadness than before; something he hadn’t thought possible. Little did he know, Lydia had always thought the same thing about him.

“But you can’t be dead,” he said. “Because you said my name three times and I can feel it. I’m visible again.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m not dead now. I was dead. Before.”

“And you came back?” She nodded. “How?” Beetlejuice was in awe. He’d heard of necromancers, but even he never deigned to believe in something like that, yet here Lydia stood, telling him she’d come back from the grave.

She shrugged. “The way lots of dead people come back. Paramedics.”

He sighed. Of course. Her heart had stopped and she’d been revived. “What killed you?”

“A crash.” He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “Have you really been waiting for me all this time?” 

He shrugged. “Not much else to do around here, babe. Chilling with the dead just ain’t as much fun without you around to darken the doorways.” Lydia smiled again. It was wrong to have missed him, but she had nonetheless. In the haunted house where they’d met in the midst of a rainstorm, wrong was normal, and life and death toed an uncomfortable line.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“What’re you gonna do?” Lydia asked him as he opened the window to her bedroom and helped her climb in from out of the rain. They stood face to face, dripping onto her hard wood floor. Lydia was still trying to process how many ghosts were in her house as she gave the ghost with the most a once over. He looked surprisingly…alive.

“Kill him, of course,” Beetlejuice said with a laugh. When Lydia’s eyes grew wide he sighed. “Kidding, babe. I’ll just scare him.”

“How?”

“However you want.”

That night all the bulbs in Charles and Delia’s bedroom exploded, their mattress flipped over, dumping them onto the floor, and the shower turned on by itself. Lydia pleaded with them that they needed to return to their old house, that this one was haunted, but they ignored her. “We’ve already sold the old house, Lydia.” Charles said. So Beetlejuice upped the anti. He set the dinner on the stovetop on fire, knocked the chandelier from the living room ceiling, and burst all the pipes in the kitchen.

The Maitlands looked on in horror every time a new antic came into play. “Lydia, you have to stop this,” Barbara pleaded with her one day, grabbing ahold of her elbow in the hallway.

But Lydia had tugged her arm free, shooting Barbara a nasty glare before striding into her room and slamming the door. Beetlejuice, of course, was already there; lounged out on her bed. “What’s up, doll?”

Lydia came over and sat down next to him. “Barbara thinks we’re going too far.”

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “I swear,” he said, sitting up, “even dead that woman’s a scaredy cat.”

Lydia fought back a smile. “Well, we can’t go back to our old house,” she said. “Dad sold it, which means any chance of getting to see Dead Mom there is gone.”

Beetlejuice sat up next to her and bumped his shoulder against hers. She turned to look at him. “Hey, kid,” he said. “The Maitlands are only here because they died here. Did your mom die in your house?”

“No,” Lydia said softly.

“Well, then she ain’t there.”

“But…did you die in this house?”

“I’m different, babe.” Lydia’s hands balled into fists. She couldn’t believe this. What had she been fighting for these past few days then if there was no hope of returning to see her mom. Was her mom haunting the hospital she died in? Is that where she needed to go to see her? Beetlejuice, as if reading her thoughts said:

“Kid, she’s in the Netherworld.”

“The what?”

“Ya know,” he said, bumping her shoulder again. “Where most ghosts go when they die.”

“Like heaven?” Beetlejuice laughed. “No, babe. Not like heaven.” She wanted to ask the horrible question of is there a heaven, but could already see in his eyes the answer. She contemplated his words for a moment before hopping to her feet. “Can you taking me there?”

“Where? The Netherworld?” He asked incredulously. Lydia nodded. “Not unless you were dead.” He saw the flicker in Lydia’s eyes, how they ever so slightly edged towards her window. In an instant he was on his feet and blocking her path. She turned to glare at him, she took a step forward just to push him, show him he wasn’t in control of her but he blocked her way, bracing both her shoulders. “No, Lydia,” he said. She hesitated. They’d only known each other a little over a week but she was always babe, doll, or worst of all, _kid_. He never called her by her real name. She’d read enough books to know that that meant something, but under these bizarre circumstances she just wasn’t sure what.

“There’s gotta be some way I can get there.” He gripped her shoulders tighter.

“There isn’t. You need to forget about this.” He realized the mistake in his words too late. Forget. Forget about her mom, that’s what her dad was trying to do, what Lydia had enlisted Beetlejuice’s help to fight against; forgetting. His grip loosened enough that she could take a step back away from him.

“You don’t care,” she said.

He took a step towards her. “Kid—” There was that word again _kid_. Everyone treated her like a kid, and the feelings of a kid couldn’t possibly matter in the grand scheme of things, right? She shook her head at him.

“Beetlejuice.” He looked at her, waiting to see what she wanted from him. He took another step forward, maybe he could console her like he had that night on the roof; he may be a demon, but he didn’t wanna be the reason the suicidal teen jumped. “Beetlejuice,” she said again. And then he realized what she was doing.

“Lydia—” he said, rushing towards her, hands out to cover her mouth, his palm clamped down over her face, shoving her back against the wall. “Don’t,” he said firmly.

She bit his hand—hard. The shock of it caused him to loosen his hold, she tore her head back and shouted: “BEETLEJUICE.” 

He cried out and sank to his knees. Lydia could still see him, but now no one else who was living could and his powers had been bottled back up like a genie in a lamp. He looked at his hands, feeling the spark of visibility receding. He looked back up at Lydia. She glared down at him. She could see the seeds of anger begin to grow behind his eyes as he rose to his feet, towering over her. “What have you done?” She jutted her chin out to show she wasn’t afraid of him.

“What’re ya gonna do, Beetlejuice?”

“Kid,” his voice was embarrassingly pleading.

“Beetlejuice?” She said, feigning innocence.

He clenched his fists by his sides. She pursed her lips but didn’t speak again. “Beeee—” He couldn’t help himself, his hands shot up one of them around her throat, the other pressed against the wall next to her head, he pressed his fingers against her skin as if he could squeeze the word out of her. She tensed a little against his grip, it was the first time his physical touch was anything other than playful or comforting.

“Say it,” he hissed. Lydia smirked at him, refusing to relent, the little devil inside her beginning to show; he was surprised to see there was more darkness to her than just her clothes.

“Beeeeee-autiful day today,” she said. Beetlejuice growled. Lydia laughed.

“Lydia,” he said again, trying to reign in his anger. “I’m begging you. I don’t—I can’t be invisible anymore.”

“Too bad,” she spat. “If I’m invisible, then so are you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re more doom and gloom than any ghost I know. So come on,” he sat up straight and held his hand out to her. “Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos!

Chapter Four

A week later Lydia’s window flew open and the rainstorm outside blew leaves and damp across her room, and scattering across her bed. She sat up, startled and with a crack of lightning saw the shadow of Beetlejuice standing before her open window like some character from a bad 80s horror movie.

“What’d you want, Beetlejuice?” She saw him tense a bit at his name, she bit her tongue realizing her mistake. He was now going to be anxiously awaiting her to say it twice more, unbroken, so she quickly shattered that hope. “Why’re you in my room?” Beetlejuice tried to hide the slump in his shoulders when the repetition of his name didn’t come from her mouth, but Lydia noticed the change in his posture even in the dark. He came over to her bed and sat down on the edge, gazing at her with an intensity she wasn’t used to from him. She’d seen his intense anger, but this was something different. “What?” She said again. “Why’re you here?”

“I’m here for you,” he said plainly. That was not the answer she was expecting.

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me, kid.” She clenched her teeth at that loathed title he kept attaching to her.

“What’re you talking about, Beetle?”

He grimaced at the shortened use of his name, which of course made her smirk. He tried his best to shake it off and shift closer to her on the bed, building back up his saunty demeanor, as he leaned towards her. “Come with me, away from this place. Away from all the sunshine and rainbows.” She leaned away from him slightly. He smelled like the rain, and smoke, and his eyes looked like storm clouds. He was the walking embodiment of a cemetery, and Lydia knew her own macabre self well enough to know such a thing was her undoing. She crossed her arms over her chest, and sat up straighter. “

Maybe I like sunshine and rainbows now.” At that Beetlejuice laughed and Lydia glared.

“Oh come on, doll,” he said, she relaxed a bit at the change in nickname. Doll and babe made her feel like a grown woman; kid obviously did not. “You’re more doom and gloom than any ghost I know. So come on,” he sat up straight and held his hand out to her. “Come with me.”

She looked at his hand, but didn’t take it. “Where?” She asked, meeting his storm cloud gaze.

“Away,” he said lowly. The thunder boomed outside her window and more wet leaves blew in on the wind, coating her floor with a mucky copse.

“You barely know me,” she said.

It had only been a few weeks since the last rainy night when she’d tried to throw herself off the roof and this ghostly man had stopped her—had saved her, from herself. This was the only person who could bear her in all her sadness; not only that, he didn’t treat her sorrow like an endurance test, but he met it head on. She felt seen in his deadly, stormy eyes. Even Barbara and Adam couldn’t quite make sense of her. Even in death they where chipper, suburban, and dreadfully usual. Beetlejuice was none of those things, and Lydia hadn’t felt a connection like this to anyone except her mom. If he was right, and there was no hope of seeing her mom again while she still lived, then maybe this was the next best thing.

“Let me get to know you,” he said, his hand still reaching for hers. She looked down at it again and this time she gently placed her own inside it. As soon as his cold fingers had curled around her own, her bedroom melted away and they were standing in an old cemetery.

The rain was beating down on them like it had several weeks ago. Lydia shivered in her nightgown and bare feet, but before she could even voice the concern, Beetlejuice’s stripped coat was around her shoulders. She opened her mouth to thank him but he was already leading her to a large tree in the center of the graveyard where they could take shelter from the rain.

“We’re not in Connecticut,” she said as they sat down in the marshy grass.

“Nope.”

“Wait…” she said, looking around. She let her eyes take in the familiar looking tombstones, and let her ears adjust to the comforting sound of car horns and buzzing lights in the air. She turned back to him. “We’re in New York.” He nodded, then jutted his head towards a grave a few yards away.

“You wanted your mom.”

Lydia turned to follow his gaze, and sure enough her mother’s tombstone stood a little ways off in front of them. She inhaled sharply and quietly, but Beetlejuice heard her and prided himself on it. It wasn’t often he did anything good; at least not if there wasn’t something in it for him. Taking this kid, who seemed more ghost than girl herself, to visit her mom’s grave held no reward for him. He knew this wouldn’t sway her to say his name, it might not even make her trust him—not that being untrusted was a foreign feeling to him, it was what he was accustomed to. Often what he strived for. But the damning little goth made him uncomfortable. Her complete lack of mortal fear made her a being to be reckoned with and he hadn’t met one of those in quite some time. Centuries actually.

She looked back at him. “Why would you do this when I banished you?”

“Because,” he said with a shrug he hoped made him seem blasé fair, “you can see me.”

Before he could make sense of what was happening, her arms were around him, wrapping him up in a hug. He stiffened at first underneath her light pressure, but then he relaxed and let his arms snake around her back, holding her close. If anyone had seen the two that night, huddled under the tree, braced against one another, damp from the rain—no one would’ve thought they were looking at a ghoul and a girl, but rather just two lonely, lost souls who had finally found solace in someone else. But only Lydia could see Beetlejuice. If anyone did walk by that night, all they saw was a girl in a soaked nightgown, hugging the air.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you’ve just been…” she looked around the abandoned graveyard and back at him.
> 
> “Waiting for the ghoulish girl with the camera?” He said with a Jack-O-Lantern smirk. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short, but don't worry, a longer one is coming on Wednesday! Thanks again for all the kudos!

Chapter Five

“But why would you come to New York?” Lydia asked him, a decade later standing in the same cemetery. “The house is back in Connecticut.”

“I’m not the Maitlands, kid, I’m not confined to the house.” Lydia stiffened a bit and Beetlejuice took notice. “What?” He asked.

She shook her head. She wasn’t an overly emotional teenager anymore, she knew her fixation on that word from his mouth was ridiculous. He meant it to be endearing (or as endearing as a demon can be, she thought), not as a way of admonishing her feelings the way her father and Delia always had.

“Nothing,” she said. “But if you’re not confined to the house, what are you confined to? Or are you not confined to anything at all?”

“Come on, doll,” he said casually. “Don’t you know?”

Lydia shrugged, genuinely at a loss, she thought he only had freedom outside of the house once his name had been said three times and he'd been summoned. But he had been here waiting for her.

The ghost’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t believe it. “Lydia,” he said, her full name falling off his tongue sent a jolt through her stomach. “I’m confined to you.”

“What?” She asked softly.

“You sent me back years ago,” he said. “Said my name three times. But you can still see me. You’ve always been able to.”

“So you’ve just been…” she looked around the abandoned graveyard and back at him.

“Waiting for the ghoulish girl with the camera?” He said with a Jack-O-Lantern smirk. “Yes.”

“Why, though? After everything that happened.”

“Jeez doll,” he sighed and ran a hand through his messy, green and purple hair and said to her for the second time “don’t you know?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were so consumed in scheming as to how they were going to sell the Maitlands imprisonment, how to capitalize off of grief, that they didn’t even notice her on the table, amongst the steak and salad, talking to the air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but don't worry, longer ones are coming soon! Next chapter goes up on Friday! Thank you again for all the kudos<3

Chapter Six

Weeks passed and Lydia never said Beetlejuice’s name more than twice in a row when she saw him, and he was in agony. She was still unsure of his intentions, and the Maitlands made it clear she should be wary of even saying his name once. But then the dinner happened. Charles Deetz, and his new wife, Delia Deetz, had business friends over for dinner to talk about building a gated community and using the haunted house as a model home.

“This is our chance,” Lydia said to Barbara and Adam the night before. “To really scare my dad, give him a wake up call.” She knew her hopes of returning to her old home in New York were a lost cause, she knew Barbara and Adam wouldn’t be getting the solitude of their home back anytime soon, but if she could show her dad that there were ghosts and demons in their midst, then he’d be forced to come to terms with the severity of death—he’d be forced to come to terms with Emily Deetz’s death and the permanent crack it had chiseled into his daughter’s heart. At least, that’s what Lydia thought.

The possession plan had seemed perfect. She’d enlisted the Maitlands instead of Beetlejuice because without his name spoken three times, his powers were seriously limited Opening Lydia’s window and their trip to the cemetery had practically drained him. He had said as much to Lydia the morning following their mournful rain-soaked night in amongst the graves in hopes that it would guilt her into summoning him, but Lydia was smarter than that. So Barbara and Adam were her go-to-ghosts for the job.

A job that failed. Miserably. Her father’s business friends were overjoyed at the haunting. “A genuine haunted house!” Maxie Dean shouted. “It’s a gold mine!” He intended to sell tickets to visit the Deetz’s home as if this place were a common carnival attraction.

Lydia was furious. She’d been alone, and ignored, and invisible to her father for months. He’d only had eyes for Delia, the woman he happily replaced her mother with in a matter of months. Lydia couldn’t live like this anymore. She wanted to scream. So she did. She clambered on top of the dinner table as the dancing possession plan the Maitlands were orchestrating still carried on haphazardly around them. She heard Barbara and Adam call out for her to stop, but their voices sounded to her like she was hearing them from underwater. Her emotions were spiraling out of control. She felt the world closing in around her. She felt dizzy and sick. She felt like she was on fire. She took a deep breath. “Beetlejuice!”

In an instant he was beside her. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” he said excitedly. She looked at him with desperation. He grinned, his own form of desperation seething beneath his skin. “Are you doing what I hope you’re doing, babe?”

“Lydia! No!” Barbara cried out.

But Lydia ignored her. “Beetlejuice.” She said again, calmer this time, her voice low, practically a growl.

Beetlejuice grabbed hold of her shoulders and bent his head down so they were at eye-level. “Come on, doll,” he said. “Make them pay for ignoring you. Say. My. Name.”

Lydia glanced back at her father and his greedy friends. They were so consumed in scheming as to how they were going to sell the Maitlands imprisonment, how to capitalize off of grief, that they didn’t even notice her on the table, amongst the steak and salad, talking to the air. She looked back at the ghoul before her. She was the only one who could see him, and for all intents and purposes he was the only one who could see her. It was time, she thought, that that all came to an end. She breathed in again and screamed so loud, if you were there you would’ve sworn you felt the house shake: “BEETLEJUICE!”

The lights burst out one by one, bulbs exploding sending glass flying across the room. The floor began to shake, the furniture began to crumble, the walls began to crack. The party-goers began to scream and Lydia began to laugh as the ghost with the most leaned down and whispered in her ear: “It’s showtime.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Well excuse for me for not starting a book club so we could all discuss all the wonderfully benign, boring, and horrible things about death with a seventeen-year-old.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KUDOS!!!<3  
> *here's an extra long chapter to make up for all the short ones this week, next chapter will be posted on Monday!*

Chapter Seven

Lydia stumbled into her room arm in arm with Beetlejuice, both somewhat drunk off champagne, celebrating the fleeing of the entirety of the diner party—even Charles and Delia. Lydia stumbled her way over to her bed and collapsed onto her back, laughing, still, at the memory of the sound of Delia’s scream when she’d laid eyes upon Beetlejuice. Lydia knew The Maitlands were to thank as well for their efforts in trying to sufficiently posses those condescending adults, but their idea of being scary was a dance number; Beetlejuice understood true terror.

Lydia rolled onto her side to spy Beetlejuice standing in the doorway, half-drunk champagne bottle still in hand, just staring at her. It took a lot more for the poltergeist to get drunk than it would take a teenage girl (really the dead can’t get drunk), but he’d still had enough to feel a light buzz in his brain. Lydia let her head loll to one side, his green eyes piercing her where she lay.

“What?” She asked with her booze-heavy voice.

Beetlejuice couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her black dress had hiked up when she'd collapsed, so that now her thighs were showing; covered in gauzy lace tights. Her booted feet dangled off the side of the bed, and her dark hair hung like a curtain around her blue eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” He asked.

Lydia scrunched her face up in confusion. “Why would I be afraid of you?”

“I’m a demon.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, Beetlejuice, I know.”

He found he never got tired of hearing his name on her tongue, but every time she said it there was a small part of him that was filled with fear that it would be followed by two more repetitions, making him invisible again. Since their first fight, it hadn’t happened, and living with this fear disgusted him; whoever heard of a demon being afraid of a seventeen-year-old girl?

“I’m tired,” she said softly.

He looked at her and saw her eyes flutter closed and her breathing begin to deepen. She was asleep. He knew he should leave. That’s what a gentleman would do. But he was no such thing. So instead he went and sat next to her on the bed. He watched her chest rise and fall with every breath. He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, allowing himself to drag his hand slowly down the curve of her jaw. The feeling of his rough skin against hers made her stir a bit in her sleep, and he quickly snatched his hand back. _What am I doing?_ He thought to himself. Sure, he hadn’t wanted to see the kid kill herself, and it was nice to be visible again and have a partner in crime. And _sure_ she was easy on the eyes, and _sure_ she wasn’t really a kid, but none of that made the ghoul sit any easier in his conflicting feelings. It only got more complicated when Lydia murmured in her sleep: “ _Beetlejuice_.” His eyes grew wide and he looked back down at her, to his horror, she said his name again, “ _Beetlejuice_.”

He knew she was just dreaming, and the way she was saying his name didn’t make him think she was having some kind of nightmare about him, but he couldn’t risk it. He grabbed onto her shoulder and shook her awake. “Lydia,” he hissed. Her eyes shot open and he watched her slowly register where she was. She looked up at the ghost leaning over her, wondering when she had fallen asleep, and why Beetlejuice was in her bed with her, and why he was waking her up. Her logic swam through the pools of champagne. She had lost her grasp of reality. She opened her mouth to say his name for, what she didn’t realize was, a third time to question him as to why he woke her, but his eyes grew to the size of moons as he clamped his hand down over her mouth. She made an embarrassing squeaking sound as he did, startled, her reflexes moving slower than usual under the curtain of alcohol. “Shhh,” he said leaning over her, pressing her into the mattress. “It’s okay,” she felt herself become a little less tense at the words. “You said my name twice, babe. So don’t say it again when I take my hand away, okay?”

Lydia nodded and so the ghost slowly removed his hand. The two just stared at each other for a moment, neither one fully allowing themselves to process the fact that they were in her bed, pressed together, minds soaked in spirits. “I’m sorry,” Lydia said softly. Beetlejuice felt like she’d slapped him with those words. It was sobering, and terrifying. No one—no one—had ever apologized to him, in his entire existence, living or dead. And here was this little living demon herself, dreary and drunk beneath him, apologizing for doing the thing he’d begged her to do. She kept looking up at him with those intoxicating doe-eyes of hers and he cursed himself for feeling anything but apathy towards the little human. He was in constant shock that this girl had somehow instilled in him what no one had in centuries—emotion.

He smoothed some of her hair away from her face. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Just don’t send me back, okay? It’d break my heart.”

Lydia contemplated this for a moment. She knew what saying his name three times in a row did each time, altered his visibility to the living world. “But,” she said softly, holding his gaze, “I’ll always be able to see you.”

Bang.

He felt the punch of her words yet again. He didn’t want to feel this tug in his gut every time this little lady spoke, especially not now, when her usual gloomy exterior had been wiped away by several glasses of bubbly. He knew Lydia would never speak so softly and gently to him like this if she were sober. Lydia was all bark and bite. _Maybe I should savor this then_ , he thought to himself, as he relented to allowing himself to keep stroking her hair; an action she found incredibly soothing. She soon found herself leaning into his hand. “I know, babe,” he said, “but if you send me back, no one else will be able to.”

Lydia’s eyes began to droop closed again. “No one saw me until you,” she said in a breathy whisper as sleep claimed her once more. Beetlejuice wanted to say something more, to tell her she was wrong and not to give him so much credit. He didn’t want this mortal girl bestowing such an honor on him. But wasn’t it true? Right before the two locked eyes with each other, she was going to throw herself off the roof, ending her life after less than two decades. And now she was here, alive—wonderfully and gloriously alive. He didn’t want to think too much about this, and decided to finally leave her bed. But just then she rolled over so that her head was resting completely on his hand, and her arms absentmindedly wrapped around his own. He froze beneath her touch. It was so different from that of the dead. So warm. He thought she was completely asleep, but through her hazy existence in that place between sleep and awake, she truly did break the old ghost’s heart as she murmured: “You saved me.”

* * *

A day passed, and Charles Deetz didn’t return for his daughter. Lydia felt a slight sinking in her heart. She didn’t want him hanging back around with Delia hanging off his arm; the two of them shoving sunshine down her throat, but she had secretly hoped he’d at least try to come back to her. She had a fantasy of him coming, begging her forgiveness and Beetlejuice vanquishing him. But it was a silly wish, and Beetlejuice was a demon, not a fairy godmother. Still, she welcomed his company, and as much as he’d tried to convince himself he had only used her to make himself visible, he enjoyed spending time with her. She was dark and bitter, like expensive chocolate. She had a sharp wit and words that stung when she wanted them too. She was funny and had a laugh that sounded better than any song he’d ever heard. And he couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous. She stomped around the house in her heavy black boots, her dresses so long that sometimes they trailed behind her on the floor like a morbid wedding train. She was dressed like every day was a funeral, and since she had spent every day since meeting Beetlejuice, by his ghostly side, her attire seemed appropriate. 

The day after the dinner party, Lydia woke up in bed, her head heavy from the champagne, and she rolled over to see Beetlejuice asleep beside her. They were on top of the covers, both fully closed. She recalled her memories of the night before, and remembered the sweet dream she’d had of him pushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling down at her. _You said my name twice,_ he’d said in the dream. But now that she was looking at him beside her she wondered if it wasn’t actually a dream after all. She studied him for several moments before slowly laying back down and gently shifting closer beside him until their faces were only a few inches apart. She lightly placed her hand on his chest, and whispered his name. “Beetlejuice.”

His eyes opened and for a second he thought he, too, must still be asleep. Lydia was before him, her moonlike eyes wide awake and gazing at him. Her red lipstick smudged from sleep. And then he registered the light pressure on his chest. He glanced down quickly to see her palm pressed against him. Her nails covered in chipped black polish, her fingers so short and slim. Her hand felt like a feather against his heart.

“What’s up, babe?” He asked in a quiet voice, guttural and deep, almost like a growl; his throat still held it’s early morning rasp (raspier than it _usually_ was at least).

“Did you sleep here?” She asked in a small voice. “Next to me?” He didn’t speak, his eyes answered the question for her. He expected her to remove her hand at this realization, but to his surprise and immense pleasure, she left it right where it was; in fact, she slightly curled her fingers in, dragging against the fabric of his shirt. If his heart still beat, he would’ve felt it still beneath her touch. “Did I…talk in my sleep?”

He could see the flush she was trying to fight from creeping across her face and he couldn’t help but smirk as she shyly dropped her eyes to avoid his gaze. “Just my name.” Her eyes shot back up. “You only said it twice, doll, don’t worry.”

He saw her jaw unclench slightly, and then she did something he couldn’t believe. She herself couldn’t believe it as she did it, but her head was still heavy from the residue of champagne, and she felt more exhausted than she had in a long while. So she shifted forward and laid against his chest. He stiffened a bit against her embrace. Her arms were folded up in front of her chest, her palms pressing flat against his. 

“Lydia,” he murmured softly. She didn’t respond. She was frozen against him, terrified she’d made a mistake. But to her relief, he slowly snaked his arms around her back and pulled her in close.

* * *

Beetlejuice awoke later in the day to find Lydia gone, the sound of the shower running and Barbara Maitland glaring down at him. “Hey, Babs,” he said groggily as he sat up.

“What’re you doing?” She snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, I was asleep.”

“In Lydia’s bed?”

“Relax, dollface,” he said standing up and patting her on the cheek, much to her disgust. “I didn’t deflower the kid.”  Barbara made another disgusted face and Beetlejuice laughed.

“You can’t keep this up,” Barbara said. “Lydia needs her family.”

Beetlejuice’s brows knit together at that comment, and when he spoke next his voice took on the raspy tone of a demon as opposed to the light-hearted one of a friendly ghost. “The kid’s family didn’t appreciate her, didn’t pay attention to her. She’s better off without them.”

“And what?” Barbara said. “You’re going to be her family now?”  


Beetlejuice crossed his arms. “I could be.”

“You’re a monster!” Barbara practically shouted.

“Yeah,” a third voice said from behind them. They both turned to see Lydia standing in the doorway of her bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto the floor, wrapped up in nothing but a black towel. Beetlejuice felt his stomach drop. “He is a monster,” Lydia said. “But he’s _my_ monster.” He felt himself smirk a bit at her remark.

Barbara’s face, however, was painted with worry. “Lydia,” she said, as calmly as she could. “You need your father.”

“No,” Lydia spat sternly. “What I _need_ is my mother. But she’s gone.”

At that Beetlejuice tensed a bit. He knew it was crazy to think Lydia would _need_ him, and he’d never admit to having his feelings hurt by some kid (or to having feelings at all), but his smile still slowly slipped away. 

“Lydia,” Barbara said gently. “I’m sorry your mother’s gone, but—”

“But what? You want to take her place?”  Lydia knew as soon as the words left her mouth that they were a mistake, but she bit her lip and didn’t take them back. Barbara did her best to cover up her hurt.

“I already told the kid her mom’s in The Netherworld,” Beetlejuice said to Barbara. “That she ain’t coming back.”

Lydia’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of her towel. She immediately felt the sting of the word _kid_ on Beetlejuice’s tongue as he spoke to Barbara as if she wasn’t even there. But before Lydia could stew in her anger for too long, something crossed her mind: “That’s it!” She said excitedly, drawing their attention back to her. “Barbara, you and Adam are dead! You can go to The Netherworld and bring my mom back.”

“Babe,” Beetlejuice said in an uneasy voice as he quickly walked over to stand before her, much to Barbara’s unease. She didn’t like the image of a grown man—a demon—standing before Lydia while she was wearing nothing but a towel. “I already told you, you can’t go unless you’re dead.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and dramatically gestured to Barbara. “And Barbara is dead.”

“Lydia, I can’t. The Handbook advises against that sort of thing. It just isn’t safe.”

At that Beetlejuice closed his eyes in a grimace and Lydia raised her eyebrows in concern. She glanced at Beetlejuice then strode past him to stand before Barbara. “What Handbook?” She asked.

Beetlejuice slowly turned around and met Barbara’s confused look. She clearly had thought Beetlejuice would’ve told Lydia everything there was to know about being dead. _But of course,_ she thought to herself, _he’s a trickster, of course he would hide this from her._

“It’s a guide to the afterlife,” Barbara said.

Lydia spun around to face Beetlejuice. “Did you know about this?”

“Of course he did,” Barbara said from behind her. “He’s dead too.”

Beetlejuice’s stomach twisted itself into knots as Lydia glared at him. “You lied to me,” she snapped.

Beetlejuice held his hands up in defense. “Woah, no I didn’t. I simply just withheld this piece of information.”  


“Why? She asked, storming back over to him. 

“Because,” he said, gently placing his hands on her bare shoulders, still damp from the shower. Barbara clenched her jaw as she witnessed this tender exchange of affection between the demon and Lydia. “I knew if I told you, you’d beg me to go get your mom back for you, and as Babs said, it ain’t safe. Once a ghost goes to The Netherworld, they ain’t supposed to leave. Juno makes sure of that.”

“Who’s Juno?” Lydia asked.

Beetlejuice shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you accept that you aren’t gonna see your mom again until you die.” Before Lydia could even glance at the window, Beetlejuice gripped her shoulders tighter, his fingers digging into her skin, just rough enough to hold her attention. “Which isn’t going to happen for a long, long, _long_ time. Right Babs?” He asked, shooting Barbara a commanding look.

It took Barbara a second to catch on. She still didn’t know about Lydia’s suicide attempt. But one look at the desperation in the demon’s eyes and she pieced the puzzle of his worry together. “Right,” she said firmly.

Lydia looked between the two ghosts, her face stuck in a glare. “Fine,” she grumbled, then stalked back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Beetlejuice and Barbara just looked at each other in the awkward silence. Barbara finally sighed and headed out to the hall, but Beetlejuice scurried after her, closing Lydia’s door behind him. “Babs, wait,” he said, grabbing onto her wrist. Barbara yanked her hand free. 

“What else aren’t you telling her?” She demanded.

“Jeez, Babs,” he said. “Why did the kid need to know about that? What good will it do her?”

“You can’t expect her to live in a house full of ghosts without giving her all the information.”

Beetlejuice sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Well excuse for me for not starting a book club so we could all discuss all the wonderfully benign, boring, and horrible things about death with a seventeen-year-old.”

“You scared her entire family away from their own home and you’re afraid she can’t handle a book?” Barbara asked incredulously. “Oh wait,” she said, “I forgot, _you_ want to be her family now.”

“And you don’t?”

Barbara opened her mouth to snap back at him, but found she had no response. What could she say to that, really? Lydia was the daughter she had always wanted, and without Delia and Charles around, admittedly making Lydia (obviously) feel lonely and miserable, Barbara and Adam could step in as her surrogate parents. But Barbara also realized that they held no real influence over Lydia, and that Beetlejuice apparently did. Enough so that Lydia was letting him sleep in her bed, and see her in only a towel. Barbara could also see something in the demon’s eyes that he didn’t have when he spoke with her and Adam. Her stomach lurched at the thought of Lydia and Beetlejuice together, and if Lydia remained alone in this house with no other company but the ghosts, the chances of that thought becoming a reality were more frightening to Barbara than any trip to The Netherworld.

“Lydia needs a real family,” Barbara said firmly. “Not a bunch of dead people.” And with that she turned and stormed away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Beware,” Lydia whispered, taking him by surprise, “for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.” It took him a second to realize she was quoting Frankenstein. Her favorite book. He’d seen it always out on her desk, and often in her hands, the spine cracked from being well-read. He wasn’t surprised the little goth would attach herself to the story, but to hear her speak the monster’s lines did throw him a bit. “I’m not afraid of you, Beetlejuice,” she said softly against the night air between them. He tightened his arms around her a bit.
> 
> “Lydia,” he said again. She loved when he used her real name. “Everyone’s afraid of me to some extent.”
> 
> “I’m not everyone.”

Chapter Eight

Lydia met the Maitlands before she met Beetlejuice. Before the roof and the rain and the almost death. The Deetzs had just moved to the haunted house and Lydia was freshly cloaked in the loneliness it exuded. Her father had brought her there under the illusion of thinking they were just staying long enough to show off his new model home for his soon-to-be gated community, and then waited until the movers were unloading the furniture to tell Lydia this was there new home. This place miles and miles away from New York and Dead Mom’s grave. 

Then came Delia. The life-coach her father hired to try and ‘cure’ her depression. She had asked for therapy, but Charles Deetz didn’t _believe_ in all that ‘psych mumbo jumbo,’ so instead he had enlisted a ditzy lover of crystals with an endless supply of pink dresses. It only took one day with her for Lydia to despise Delia. 

And then came the engagement. She had been looking for her photography equipment amidst the boxes cluttering the upstairs hall when she heard Delia’s squeal. She crept closer to her father’s door, realizing Delia was in there with him instead of her own room at the other end of the house. Lydia laid down flat on the floor and peeked under the door to see her father’s knee, only one. She pieced it together with Delia’s joyful squeal. She was a smart kid, she didn’t need it spelled out in neon lights for her. 

So she fled to the attic, for if she cried in her room they’d hear her and she wasn’t in the mood for one of Delia’s tacky life-coach sayings about happiness. As she stomped up the stairs to the attic she head voices. _Barbara, someone’s coming!_ Adam hissed. Lydia froze halfway up the stairs and let the uncertain silence hang in the air. _I think they’re gone._ Barbara chimed in. Without thinking, Lydia bounded the rest of the way up the stairs and threw open the door to find the most generic looking suburban couple standing before her, holding a set of sheets in their hands.

“What the—” Lydia said softly.

“Oh good lord,” Adam said, “You can see us?”

“Um, yeah?” Lydia said.

“Oh, Adam this is wonderful!” Barbara said, turning to her husband with a big smile on our face.

“How is this wonderful, Barbara?” He hissed dramatically. “She can _see_ us.”

“Well earlier you were complaining that her parents couldn’t see us.”

“They’re not my parents,” Lydia cut in without even addressing why these people seemed to think they were invisible or why they were in her attic. “Well,” she said, “Charles is my dad, but Delia is… _Delia_.”

“Oh,” Barbara said gently. “Where’s your mom?”

Lydia scoffed. “Way to assume I don’t have a second dad.”

“Oh!” She said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Lydia laughed. “I’m just messing with you, my mom’s dead.” The final words fell heavy in the air and sat uncomfortably between the ghosts and the goth. Lydia studied the couple again and it was then that she noticed the bluish glow around their skin, barely noticeable but there nonetheless. “Wait,” she said slowly, “are you two… _dead?”_ Adam and Barbara exchanged a glance then looked back at Lydia and nodded. “Oh my god!” Lydia said excitedly. “You’re the couple that died in this house!” She quickly snapped a picture of them with the camera she’d swiped from her box in the hall before witnessing the proposal debacle from the other side of the door. Adam and Barbara flinched as the bright flash went off. “This is amazing,” Lydia said, rushing over to them. “Actual ghosts! I can’t believe this, I actually live in a haunted house!”

“You’re not afraid?” Adam asked in confusion.

Lydia scoffed again. “Why would I be afraid? You’re not scary. You look like you came here from a tupperware party or something.”

“I don’t understand,” Adam said, ignoring her jibe. “Why can you see us when your dad and…Delia can’t? We were told that the living ignore the ‘strange and unusual’ and yet, you can see us plain as day.”

Lydia shrugged. “Perhaps that’s because I, myself, am strange and unusual.”

Adam gave her an odd stare but Barbara just shrugged and smiled. “You look like a normal girl to me.”

Lydia smiled at that, Adam was a bit surprised to see such a sunny response from the gloomy looking girl but he welcomed it nonetheless. “I’m so sorry about your mom,” he said, addressing Lydia’s earlier comment.

Lydia’s smile faltered a little but she was just so happy to finally be able to speak freely about Dead Mom without being stuck under the thumb of Delia’s insufferable censorship.

“Thanks,” Lydia said. “She would _love_ this. She loved all things creepy and spooky.”

“I take it you two were a lot alike?” Barbara asked, nodding at Lydia’s black dress clad with lace and safety pins. 

Lydia laughed. “Yeah. She was the only person who really got me, ya know? My dad always _endured_ my…attire and interests; my mom and I were into the same stuff but she wore sundresses and…” Lydia waved her hand in the air, “ _stuff_ so he looked the other way about how uncomfortable I make him because my mom was always there to distract him. Convince him I was normal. But now he’s got Delia jabbering in his ear about how weird I am.” Lydia’s eyes dropped to the floor. She hadn’t spoken that many words in a row since before the funeral. It felt both euphoric and horrifying. 

“Hey,” Adam said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lydia was shocked to feel his touch as if he were a live person, the only difference was a slightly unnatural chill. “I think weird is pretty cool. Heck,” he said with a smile, “I wish we were weirder!” He gestured between him and Barbara and Barbara playfully socked his shoulder.

Lydia smiled back at them. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I really like you guys. This is the fist nice time moment I’ve had since Dead Mom’s funeral.”  
Barbara reached out and pulled Lydia into a hug. Even though she was dead, Lydia found she still smelled like lavender soap and the freshly baked bread she’d been making the afternoon the floor gave out.

Barbara pulled back from Lydia and took hold of her hands in her own. “Well this is the first nice moment we’ve had since _our_ funeral,.”

* * *

Three days had passed since the night Beetlejuice had chased the Deetzs out in terror and still Lydia’s father hadn’t returned. As the stars rose in the night sky above the house, Lydia climbed into bed and tried to not think about the idea of having been truly abandoned. Sure, she had Barbara, and Adam, and Beetlejuice, but what would she do when she ran out of food and was stuck with a bunch of housebound ghosts who don’t need to eat? Or what about when the bills had to be paid? For all of that she needed an actual living, breathing person. Just then, Beetlejuice appeared by the side of the bed, so softly she might’ve not noticed if she’d been closer to sleep. She opened her eyes fully to look up at him.

“Evening,” he said in what was probably the most normal tone of voice she’d ever heard from him. 

Lydia gave a weak smile and then nodded towards the empty side of the bed. Beetlejuice hesitated for a moment. He’d laid on top of the covers next to her on their first night when she’d been passed out from champagne, but to get under her sheets with her and lay next to her while she was clad in only her nightshirt, was farther than he had ever intended to take this—or at least farther than he ever expected she would _let_ him take this. He didn’t know why Lydia was inviting him into her bed but he didn’t want to pass up the chance for it might be fleeting. 

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her small, plush armchair by the window. He kicked off his boots and climbed into bed. The two lay on their sides facing on another, not touching, a small universe between them. “Babe,” Beetlejuice whispered in his raspy voice, “have you been crying?”  
Lydia hadn’t realized her eyes had teared up as she wondered where her dad and Delia had gone, but she didn’t want to talk about that with Beetlejuice. She didn’t want him to ever think she was going to go back to the edge of the roof again. So she smiled lightly and shook her head.

Beetlejuice knew she was lying, which is why he felt emboldened enough to close out the remaining space between them and wrap her in his arms. He wasn’t an expert at human emotions but he figured it didn’t take a genius to suppose a crying girl would want to be held. Lydia stiffened at first against his cold touch and he wondered briefly if he’d made a mistake. But that worry was vanquished from his mind as he felt Lydia’s fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and her chin rest flush against his chest. They lay like that, in perfect silence for a few moments before Beetlejuice dared trace his fingers in gentle swirling patterns across her back.

Lydia was so overwhelmed by the demon. There was the version that took her to rainy graveyards and held her while she cried and then there was the version that pushed her up against the wall with a hand around her throat as he demanded she give him what he wanted. She didn’t know if one version was more honest that the other, but she suspected that both lived together in a cruel sort of harmony. There could be no sweet without the sour. 

As his fingers continued to trace patterns on her back Lydia found herself arching against him, and even though he didn’t need to breathe, his breath still caught in his throat slightly from the movement. _Did she do that on purpose?_ He wondered. _Or has she just fallen asleep?_ But his question was answered when Lydia tilted her face up to meet his, his glowing green eyes gazing at her in the dark.“Lydia,” he said softly, and she smiled at the sound of her name on his tongue. 

“Beware,” Lydia whispered, taking him by surprise, “for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.” It took him a second to realize she was quoting _Frankenstein._ Her favorite book. He’d seen it always out on her desk, and often in her hands, the spine cracked from being well-read. He wasn’t surprised the little goth would attach herself to the story, but to hear her speak the monster’s lines _did_ throw him a bit. “I’m not afraid of you, Beetlejuice,” she said softly against the night air between them. He tightened his arms around her a bit.

“Lydia,” he said again. She loved when he used her real name. “Everyone’s afraid of me to some extent.”

“I’m not everyone.”

Beetlejuice met her gaze and drank in her appearance. Her lips were bare of their normal black or red lipstick, and her eyes were sans their normal coal-shaded lining. She was looking up at him completely raw. She wanted him to see her as more than some other foolish human who’d summoned him for a haunting. And same as she wanted this, Beetlejuice reluctantly found himself realizing he wanted her to see him as more than a monster. She smiled at him and the way her lips curled, he couldn’t resist it, he closed out the space between their mouths.

Lydia stilled at first from the pressure of his cold, hard lips on her own, but only for a second. She quickly folded herself into the kiss, opening her mouth to let his take claim over it. She pressed her palms flat to his chest, digging her nails in softly to the folds of his shirt. He firmly grasped her, pressing his palms into her back as he pulled her closer. Their kiss depend and Lydia moaned softly, the sound flowing into Beetlejuice’s mouth; it made him practically growl with wanting. He’d been so entranced by the girl since the moment he saw her. It had been longer than he could remember since he’d taken a liking to a living girl, let alone that a living girl took a liking to him. And here was this wonderfully weird, little goth girl, welcoming him—a demon—into her bed. 

“Don’t leave me,” Lydia whispered against his lips.

Her words halted him for a moment as he broke their kiss to look down at her. He couldn’t believe this beautiful creature was begging _him_ of all people to stay by her side, when he had been the one anxiously awaiting the moment she would chant his name three more times and send him back into invisibility. True, she’d always be able to see him, but he knew when Lydia spoke his name, it meant more than that. It meant that she _wanted_ him—a concept he struggled with. Not just the idea of anyone wanting him around at all, but the idea of some sweet girl like her wanting him, and wanting him _like this._

As he got lost in thought Lydia gazed back up at him and panicked, thinking she shouldn’t have said anything. Afraid that he would want to leave now that she had tried to tie him down. But instead of doing what she feared, and crawling out of her bed to leave her alone in the dark, Beetlejuice snaked a hand up her back and knotted it in her dark hair. He tugged slightly to pull her head back, causing her chin to jut out. He leaned his head down and kissed her throat. She felt a shiver rack her body as his other hand hooked around her hip and pulled her closer to him. She gasped softly as he trailed his tantalizing kisses from her throat, to her collarbone, to back up her neck until he’d reached her mouth again. “ _Never,”_ he growled against her lips, the word sweet on his tongue as he pressed it into her mouth, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Lydia reacted instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her. 

Beetlejuice broke the kiss to trail his mouth back down her jaw and throat and he took immense pleasure out of all the sweet little sounds that escaped her as he did. He let go of his hold on her hip and slowly trailed his hand down her thigh, causing more gasps to escape from her. He hooked his hand beneath her thigh and dragged her leg across him. Lydia didn’t wait for him to move her body anymore for her as she leaned into him, pressing her body flush against his own. He growled again as he bit down at her neck. Lydia let out a mewl as he did, his tongue lapping her up like milk. He kept one hand still knotted in her hair and the other dug into the soft flesh of her thigh. 

“ _Beetlejuice_ ,” she said in a breathy voice, the word trapped between her moans as his mouth worked on her neck. The sound of his name, spoken by her, like _that,_ during _this,_ practically sent the demon over the edge. He pushed her onto her back and dragged himself on top of her. He deftly wedged a knee between her thighs and pressed another violent kiss to her mouth. Lydia wanted to moan his name again, but she didn’t want to upset him by saying it twice, unbroken. So she broke up her speech by saying: “Stay with me.”  
She had no idea the power those three words had over Beetlejuice. He pulled back softly to meet her gaze once more. Her icy, sky-blue eyes dancing before him. He raised his hand to gently run his knuckles down her cheek, the curve of her jaw, and finally cupping her face in his hand. She smiled at him. He felt a warmth spread through his body that he hadn’t felt in ages. He was crazy about her. He leaned down and kissed her again, this time it was gentler. This time she knotted her hands in his hair, and he scooped his underneath her low back, pulling her close to him. They broke apart once more, and it was unspoken but agreed that that was as far as Lydia wanted to go. He slowly rolled off of her and opened his arms up to let her curl back up against him. He slowly smoothed her hair down in a lulling motion. “Always, babe,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her head. “Always.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Beetlejuice lost all sense of time in The Netherworld, and without her calling his name, he never felt the tug. Then the crash happened, but Lydia was so deeply under the influence when it happened that the whisper between her and Beetlejuice was muted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:
> 
> this chapter features brief depictions of sexual assault (no it is NOT between Beetlejuice & Lydia, their relationship will ALWAYS be portrayed as consensual)
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos & comments, it makes me so happy that yall like this <3 This chapter is a little short, but don't worry, a longer one is coming on Friday!

Chapter Nine

A year after the night they first kissed, Lydia whispered Beetlejuice’s name three times and left to catch a redeye flight to Philadelphia where she had been accepted at a fancy arts school on a full scholarship. Beetlejuice knew she was leaving for school, but he didn’t know she was leaving with his name trapped in her mouth; he didn’t know she was leaving like a ghost. 

Lydia excelled in school, which was to be expected, her photography was astounding. But her work was dark and as many students in her workshops deemed it, _disturbing._ And she was often struggling to focus because her mind wandered back to one thing—Beetlejuice; how they had left things, everything that had happened between their first kiss and her sneaking away in the middle of the night. 

As for Beetlejuice, when he woke up that morning and her side of the bed was empty, and her suitcases missing, and the spark of visibility gone from his body, he knew what she’d done. She didn’t trust him not to wreak havoc while she was away, so she’d trapped him back in invisibility. He was at a lost. For the past year Lydia had been his whole afterlife. Now he felt lost, and his old tendencies of darkness slowly crept back in. The Maitlands avoided him like the plague and were thankful Lydia had trapped him so that he couldn’t take his torments out on Charles and Delia.

Eventually Beetlejuice returned to his home in The Netherworld to await Lydia’s inevitable return for the holidays. The days moved differently there, and time passed in a lulling blur. Then one night he felt a tug. It was far away and faint, but he felt it nonetheless. 

Without his name spoken three times he could still enter the living world, and he wasn’t necessarily confined to the house but rather to the keeper of his name—Lydia. He journeyed across the veil between the world of the living and the dead, following the pull of Lydia’s voice, and found himself not in the haunted house in Connecticut, but on a shadowy city street. He recognized it as Philadelphia. He looked up at the old brick building towering above him and saw that while most of the lights were out, one on the top floor was still on. _It must be the middle of the night,_ he thought. And just when he was about to shrug it off as nothing, he heard her scream. Not from the street, but from within his mind—his _heart._ His cold, dead, non-beating heart. He heard Lydia scream. He followed the scream and appeared outside a door in the building, he was in a dorm hallway and the scream he’d felt, it turned out, was a muffled cry coming from the other side of the door. He frantically passed himself through the door to see the most horrifying sight: Lydia, pressed facedown on a mattress, and there was a man behind her. Beetlejuice seethed. He was furious. He was powerless.

“Lydia!” He screamed. “I’m here! Say my name!”

His voice may as well have fallen on deaf ears. Lydia heard it as a soft whisper in her head. She couldn’t quite make out all the words, but she knew it was him. “ _Beetlejuice,”_ she tried to mumble against the mattress, where the comforter was buried in her mouth.

“Two more times, babe!” He shouted, he was now standing right beside the bed. He wanted to kill the guy. Yank him off her and take her in his arms and hold her. But his ghostly hands passed right through both of them and he cursed. “Come on, Lydia!”

“ _Beetlejuice,”_ she whispered again.

“That’s it, doll,” he said, his voice calming a bit. _She’s almost there,_ he thought. “Just give me one more.”

But then Lydia closed her eyes and passed out. Beetlejuice watched on as the man behind her finished and then dragged Lydia’s unconscious body into the bed with him, wrapped a blanket around the two of them and fell asleep. Beetlejuice took in all the empty beer cans around the room and surmised that the drink and the trauma had given Lydia a panic attack and eventually knocked her out. 

But he didn’t leave her. She’d said his name two times in a row, if it was the first thing she said when she woke up, then he’d be there, and he could help her, and he could make that son of a bitch pay. But when morning came, the guy got dressed and left for class and Beetlejuice was left alone with a sleeping Lydia. He kept waiting for her awake, but she didn’t. Her cell phone started ringing incessantly. He peered at the caller ID, the name, _Amalie_ flashed on the screen. An hour or so later he heard pounding on the door. He tried to open it, but couldn’t. He passed back through to the hallway to see a panicked redhead banging on the door.

“Lydia!” She was crying. “Lydia! Are you in there!”

Eventually the girl raced down the hall to get an RA who had a key to the room. Beetlejuice stood back and watched numbly as the redhead who he figured must be Amalie, and the RA found Lydia and tried to wake her, and when they couldn’t, they called 911. He watched as Lydia was loaded into an ambulance. He followed as they took her to a hospital to have her stomach pumped. He watched as Amalie sat by her bedside. And when Lydia finally awoke, to his immense heartbreak, the first thing she said, was Amalie’s name, not his.

The slight link between them, the whisper from the night before, was broken. There was nothing he could do for her. Her friend was with her. He couldn’t bear it to watch her without being able to touch her, or speak to her. He returned to The Netherworld. Lydia did come back for a few holiday breaks at first, but she never said Beetlejuice’s name. The trauma of her assault had broken something in her. A wall had bricked itself up around her, and she couldn’t bear to see Beetlejuice again. She didn’t know how to make sense of her emotions. Eventually she stopped returning home.

Beetlejuice lost all sense of time in The Netherworld, and without her calling his name, he never felt the tug. Then the crash happened, but Lydia was so deeply under the influence when it happened that the whisper between her and Beetlejuice was muted. 

After the crash Lydia had to stay in the hospital. When she got out she couldn’t bring herself to face the haunted house, the Maitlands, and Beetlejuice. So she stayed away. More and more time passed. Years in the living world that felt like mere days in The Netherworld.

Beetlejuice didn’t see Lydia again until almost a decade later, in the graveyard. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew she was human. He knew she still breathed, still lived, still had a soul, and that emotions were a part of that. He knew she grieved and ached. But it was one thing to know something intellectually, and another to witness it. Lydia was so good at seeming disinterested or angry that it was easy for him to forget how different they were when it came to this. Lydia, he realized, may hide her emotions but at least she knew how to feel them; she just usually did so when no one was watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments & kudos! It means so much to me that you all enjoy this story <3

Chapter Ten

The morning after the kiss Beetlejuice woke up alone in the bed. He sat up and looked towards the bathroom door but he didn’t hear the shower running, it was then that he noticed the window was open and the breeze was blowing in the curtains. He bolted off the bed and appeared on the roof to find Lydia sitting there, still in her nightshirt, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It was early enough that the sun had just barely begun to rise in the gloomy late Autumn sky.

“Babe…” he said softly.

“Don’t worry,” she said, keeping her eyes on the sky. “I’m not going to jump. I just came out here to think.”

“Oh,” the demon said softly. “Do you want to think alone?”  
Lydia thought about it for a moment and then shook her head, so Beetlejuice sat down next to her. They sat in silence for several moments before Lydia spoke again. “I thought they’d have come back by now.”

“Who?” He asked, but he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“My dad and Delia.”

“Aren’t you happy now that they’re out of your hair?” He asked earnestly. “No more sunshine and rainbows.”

Lydia slowly turned to look at him, her eyes forming storms of their own. “Beetlejuice,” she said softly and calmly, “I’m never happy.” Beetlejuice had no words. “Are you?” She asked. “Ever happy? _Truly_ happy? I don’t mean enjoying things, I mean truly existing in a state of pure bliss.”

“I don’t know, babe, is anyone ever like that?”

Lydia turned her gaze back to the horizon. “I think so. Delia is like that. My mom was. My dad hasn’t been as much since she died, but I still see it sometimes. But…not me. Never me.”

Beetlejuice admittedly knew exactly what she meant. He’d never been happy either. But being on the roof with her was making him anxious and he didn’t want to say anything that might encourage her to spiral out of this eerily calm state.

“I thought they’d come back,” she said again.

“Oh sweetie,” Barbara said, having appeared on the roof beside them. She’d come to check on Lydia and found the window open and the girl sitting with the ghost. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Shut it, Babs,” Beetlejuice growled under his breath.

Lydia looked at Beetlejuice, a confused and anxious expression spreading across her face. “Tell me what?” She asked, keeping her eyes on him. The demon didn’t answer.

“He sealed the house,” Barbara said. “No one can come in and no one can go out. Your dad and Delia have tried to get in but they can’t. Adam and I heard them the other day, they said something about going to get a priest. I imagine they’ll be back soon.”

Lydia didn’t look at Barbara as she spoke, she just kept her eyes on Beetlejuice; her serene gaze slowly turning to seething anger. “Beetlejuice,” Lydia said lowly, “is that true?” Beetlejuice’s silence was all the answer she needed. Lydia threw back the blanket and quickly scurried through the window. Barbara sighed and Beetlejuice jumped to his feet, appearing in front of Lydia as she raced out her bedroom door and into the hall. He blocked her way as she tried to run past him. He caught her and held her, pinning her arms by her sides.

“Babe, listen.”

She struggled against him. “Let go of me!” She screamed.

Adam and Barbara both appeared in the hall. “Jesus Christ!” Adam shouted. “Let her go!”

Beetlejuice glanced over his shoulder at them. “Can it, Adam!” With a flick of his wrist a spark of fire shot at the Maitlands, knocking them down. 

Beetlejuice turned back to Lydia and tried to drag her into her room, but having used his left hand to shoot the fire, Lydia was able to pull herself from his grip and race down the stairs and towards the front door. But of course the ghoul appeared before her, blocking her from the door, even though there was no need. There was no way she’d be able to get out. Lydia came to a halt before him, out of breath and red in the face.

“Move,” she said.

“Babe,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s no use. Babs is right, I sealed the house.”

Lydia didn’t care, she threw herself at him, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her and transported them back to her bedroom. Lydia shrieked in anger and raced back towards the door but it slammed shut as she reached it and sealed itself from the outside. She jiggled the doorknob frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. The Maitlands called out for her from the hall, but the demon’s powers were so much stronger than theirs. If the room was sealed, no one could come in or out unless he let them. 

Lydia slowly turned back around to find Beetlejuice standing right in front of her. “Listen to me,” he said in a gruff voice, his patience waning. “You wanted them gone and I got them gone. What’s all the fuss about?”

“I didn’t want them gone!” She shouted. “I wanted them to pay attention to me! I didn’t want to be invisible anymore!”

“And neither did I,” he hissed, leaning in close.

“I made you visible,” she said.

“And I did the same for you, babe,” he said with a dastardly smile, and Lydia realized she could see the demon side of Beetlejuice emerging and beginning to overpower the ghost side—the side of him that seemed somewhat human.

“Open the door,” she said. “Let my family back in.”

“Christ, Lydia!” He shouted, slamming his hands down on either side of her, caging her in against the door. “You wanted grey skies, no more sunshine and rainbows. I gave that to you. I scared them, woke them up and made them see you. They couldn’t handle it and they bailed. Now that they come crawling back, you want to let them in again? Why? So they can go back to ignoring you? Trying to force you to be happy?”

Lydia shook her head, fighting back tears of fear and anger. “It won’t be like that this time,” she whispered. “Beetlejuice, they’re my family.”

That’s what set him off.  “I’m supposed to be your family now!” He shouted, moving away from her and throwing his hands up in the air. “Me, Lydia! _Me_!” He advanced back on her again, taking her face in her hands and forcing her to keep her eyes on him. “I can take care of you better than they ever could.”

Lydia gazed into his stormy green eyes. Wild. Not of this world. It had been so easy, last night in his arms, to forget what he really was. There was a reason everyone but her feared him. But those who seek death will always find a way to find it; Lydia had just managed to do so while still living. 

She could see in his eyes that he _did_ care about her. But only in the way he knew how, and she was starting to wonder if that might not be enough. It had only been a few weeks, it had only been one kiss, but it had only been _him_ that pulled her back from the edge. Hell, he was the only one to even see she was standing on one. But she wasn’t sure she could live like this. Isolated. Constantly questioning if she should trust him the way that she did.

“Beetlejuice,” she said softly. Then again, “Beetlejuice.”

He clamped a hand down over the mouth. She tried to peel it away but he grabbed both her wrists in his other hand, yanking them over her head and pinning them to the door. “You don’t wanna do that, babe. You do that and the seal on the house sticks and you’ll be stuck in here. I’m the only one who can remove it.”

Lydia glared at him. He slowly removed his hand and waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. She kept her jaw clenched. He let go of her wrists, and she yanked her hands back down by her sides. The two just stared at one another.

“Lydia,” he said, coming down form his anger, “say something.”

“What would you like me to say?” She said, feigning calm.

“Jeez, babe, I don’t know. Say you’ll stay with me.”

“I never said I’d leave you.”

“If you let them back, you’ll forget about me.” He took her hands in his, she tried to pull away but he held on tight. “Stay with me, Lydia. Please.”

Lydia felt an ache in her heart. “You think I care for you so little that I would abandon you so easily?” She asked softly. 

A silence overcame them. There were so many things they each wanted to say to the other, and they both had no idea how to even begin. Their emotions had consumed them. Their sadness had become so powerful it had morphed into hatred. 

“Unseal the house,” Lydia said again.

Beetlejuice took a small step back from her, shaking his head. “No, babe,” he said. “I can’t.”

Lydia felt the tears in her eyes finally begin to betray her and slide free. She quickly brushed them away but Beetlejuice had seen. He knew she was human. He knew she still breathed, still lived, still had a soul, and that emotions were a part of that. He knew she grieved and ached. But it was one thing to know something intellectually, and another to witness it. Lydia was so good at seeming disinterested or angry that it was easy for him to forget how different they were when it came to this. Lydia, he realized, may hide her emotions but at least she knew how to feel them; she just usually did so when no one was watching. 

She peeled her back away from the door and stood up straight. “Is this your plan?” She asked. “Keep me trapped here with you forever because you think I’ll vanquish you the second Delia and my dad come back?” Beetlejuice didn’t respond. Lydia held his gaze for a moment more, when he still didn’t speak she stormed past him and into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

He heard the lock click into the place and the shower turn on. Lydia knew things as meaningless as locks couldn’t hold him back, but she figured he had enough respect for her not to breach that kind of boundary. And he did. But he didn’t, as she thought he would, leave her room. When she emerged from an hour long shower, the sun was high in the midday sky and Beetlejuice was sitting on her bed. He stood up when she emerged from the bathroom doorway, a black towel wrapped around her. She halted when she saw him.

“Get out.”He remained where he was. “Get out.” She said again.

He smirked. Lydia felt her stomach twist. “I heard ya the first time, babe.” He said slowly stalking over to her. “But we ain’t resolved our fight yet.”

“There’s nothing to resolve. Get out.” He closed out the remaining space between them, Lydia took a few steps back towards the bathroom doorway but miscalculated and bumped into the wall. She felt her throat tighten. Here she was, walled in by him again, and this time without any clothes.

“You told me to never leave you.”

“That was different,” Lydia said, already feeling regret sink in her stomach thinking back to the events of the night before. 

He leaned in closer to her and she felt her stomach turn. “Nothing’s changed, babe,” he said lowly, his voice was no longer that of the terrifying demon, nor that of the calm ghoul, it had taken on a quality she hadn’t heard before. It was…primal. He towered over her and she tilted her chin to look up at him as he leaned in even closer. “Admit it, Lydia,” he said.

“Admit what?” She asked softly.

“Admit you want me.”

Lydia bit her lip, her fingers curling around the towel, pressing it roughly against her chest. “No,” she said in a wavering voice. “I don’t.”

Beetlejuice laughed and leaned down so his mouth was right beside her ear. “ _Liar_.”

Just then Lydia felt his hand on her shoulder. He slowly dragged his cool fingers across her collar bone, making her gasp. He chuckled softly against her ear as she did, his fingers still dragging until his hand came to rest around her throat. Lydia stiffened beneath him, but he paused there only for a moment. He was crazy about her, but he was also a little bit…well, crazy. He didn’t know how to handle every emotion Lydia threw at him. He didn’t know how to properly process everything he felt for her. And neither did she. They were two powder kegs and they were overdue to explode. 

Beetlejuice traced his fingers away from her throat to the nape of her neck, and then up into her damp hair. He knotted his hand through her dark locks, and tugged, harder than he had last night, causing another small gasp to escape from between her lips. Lydia closed her eyes as Beetlejuice growled in her ear: “Admit you want me, babe.”

Lydia took a shaky breath. “ _No_.”

The hand in her hair tightened and his other hand fell to her hip. The terrycloth towel was thick between them but she still felt butterflies pummel around in her stomach at his touch. She wanted to hate this, and hate him. She wanted a rational mind but was granted no such thing. She bit her lip.

“Come on, Lydia,” he whispered in her ear. Then his teeth were around her lobe, for just a second. She gasped, louder this time, and he chuckled again. She reached up to try and push him off, even though she wasn’t so sure she wanted to, but rather she felt it was what she was _supposed_ to want. But her hands only made it to land on his chest before she froze again. Unsure of what to do with her own body.  “Tell me, babe,” he said again, the animalistic growl returned to his voice, “that you want me.”

She took another shaky breath as he tugged on her hair while simultaneously digging his fingers into her hip. “No,” she whispered.

And then his teeth were in her neck, bitting down—hard. Lydia tilted her head back and let out a cry as he bit her, his hands holding her in place. She felt sick with how euphoric she found the feeling. He bit deep enough to draw a trickle of blood. He licked it up and kissed the spot on her neck. Lydia wriggled against the hand on her hip. He smirked as he pulled away and looked at her. He brought both hands up to cup her face.

“You’re a monster,” she whispered.

“I know, doll. But I’m your monster.” Lydia stared at him, and practically choked on the smirk of her own she was trying to hide. Beetlejuice laughed softly at her obvious failed attempt. Still holding her face in his hands, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. “Come on, doll,” he said softly, gentler this time. “I want you, you know I do. Tell me you want me too.”

Lydia closed her eyes and silently cursed herself. “I want you too,” she said quietly.

Then Beetlejuice’s mouth was on hers.

He pressed her back against the wall, still holding her face tight in his hands, she tilted her head back and opened up her mouth to let him in. He explored her mouth with his tongue as he let his hands slowly trail down her throat and then her arms. She was holding on tightly to the front of her towel but he pried her hands free and guided them to latch around his neck as he continued the journey of his own hands down her sides to rest at her hips. He pulled her waist forward as he pressed into her. He moved his mouth away from hers and planted a deep kiss on the bite mark on her neck. He let one hand trail further down from her hip until it grazed the top of her thigh. Lydia shuddered from his cool touch against her wet skin. As she did he looked back up at her, their twin stormy eyes boring into each other. 

“Lydia,” he said in his low, growling voice. “I want you.”

She nodded. “I know."

With that he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together behind his back as he pressed her up against the wall, his mouth claiming hers once more. _I’ve gone mad,_ she thought to herself. But as his tongue was in her mouth and his hands under her thighs, she realized she didn’t care.

“I’ll bring your family back,” he said against her mouth, inbetween one of their kisses. She smiled against his lips, feeling triumphant, until he added: “Under one condition.”

At that Lydia pulled back slightly, and Beetlejuice sensed the sexual tension between them was beginning to fade and take form as something else. 

“What’s that?” She asked.

Beetlejuice held her gaze, his cold hands still holding her up against the wall. She wriggled a bit to get down, and he let her slowly slide down the wall until she was standing before him again. Her arms retreated back to holding up her towel. 

He smiled at her. “Marry me.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come on, babe,” Beetlejuice said, taking Lydia’s hand and leading them towards the tree in the center of the graveyard. The one they sat under together on that night that now seemed so long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short chapter today but a long one will be up on wednesday!

Chapter Eleven

Back when Lydia had first moved into the haunted house before her life became cluttered with the dead, she found another way to sit near the brink of the afterlife; the cemetery down the road. The Deetz’s new house was perched on a hill that overlooked an old cemetery next to an abandoned church. Back in New York Lydia had frequented Dead Mom’s grave, much in the style of Mary Shelley. Even though she didn’t know anyone buried in this one, she visited it nonetheless. 

The first day she visited the cemetery, a battered copy of _Jane Eyre_ in hand, she walked amongst the tombstones, looking for one that spoke to her. She wandered through row after row until she found her way to the very center, before a grave that read _Here Lies Lawrence Orion. Gone from us too soon. May he rest in peace._ That was it. There was no quote, no mention of family or title, not even the years of his life were listed. It was the strangest grave she’d ever seen (and Lydia Deetz had seen a _lot_ of graves). It was perfect. 

She leaned up against it, opened her book and began her 6th re-read of her favorite gothic romance. 

Nearly a decade later, Lydia is standing back in the New York cemetery, by her mother’s grave, with her fiancee. The rain is beating down on them like it did the night they met on the roof of the haunted house. 

“Come on, babe,” Beetlejuice said, taking Lydia’s hand and leading them towards the tree in the center of the graveyard. The one they sat under together on that night that now seemed so long ago. 

They settled down onto the damp grass, the thick branches above shielding them from the worst of the downpour, and just like back then, Beetlejuice shrugged off his jacket to wrap around Lydia’s shoulders. They sat in an icy silence for awhile before Lydia finally shattered it. 

“I always assumed if you ever saw me again, you’d be furious.”

Beetlejuice turned to look at her. Her blue eyes brightened up the grey of the graveyard. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I broke my promise.”

He nodded. “I know you did. That doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

He shook his head. “Of course not, Lydia.” She felt the flutter in her chest that she always got when he used her name as opposed to his pet names for her. “You’re not just some breather I haunted for fun. You’re… _you.”_

“You’re telling me you weren’t mad when you woke up and I was gone?”

Beetlejuice stared into her eyes, he could tell she was fighting back tears. He’d only ever seen her shed a few. Lydia had always been dedicated to her stony exterior. Even here, in a place like this, with a ghost, sitting amongst the monuments of the dead, she insisted on appearing apathetic. He had always respected her for that; was fascinated by it. He’d never met a human so dedicated to denying the outward show of emotions. It was one of the things that made him feel so drawn to her. It wasn’t that Lydia didn’t feel sadness, it was that sadness was _all_ she felt.

“I wasn’t mad,” he said. “I was heartbroken.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why?” She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you want me?”
> 
> Beetlejuice’s mouth didn’t falter in it’s beautiful assault of her skin as he moved his head to begin kissing the other side of her neck. Lydia sighed softly, despite herself, and without thinking, tilted her head to the side to grant him easier access. He pressed his hands against her stomach and pressed himself against her. “Because,” he said in his guttural tone, the one she had come to identify as that of lust, “you’re perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for the kind comments and the kudos, they have truly meant the world to me. I am so glad you're all enjoying this story. There is so much more to come, don't worry! New chapter this Friday!

Chapter Twelve

“Marry you?” Lydia asked incredulously, shoving Beetlejuice away from her and walking towards her closet. She couldn’t continue to have this conversation with him whilst nearly naked. She heard Beetlejuice’s footsteps behind her as she threw open her closet door and reached for one of her dresses.

“If you marry me,” he said, “I won’t be dead anymore. I won’t be a demon. I’ll be alive and then we can really be together.”

Lydia spun back around to face him, clutching her dress. “We’re together now,” she said. “We’ve _been_ together. I’m seventeen, I can’t marry you. I can’t marry anyone.”

“You’re almost eighteen,” he said. “And I don’t really think our ages mean the same thing, I haven’t had a soul for awhile so…”

Lydia fought back the urge to scream in frustration. “What does that even mean?”

“Babe surely you know demons don’t have souls. We sell them, that’s how we get our powers.”

“So you want to give up your powers to be with me?” She asked. “When we met, didn’t you beg me to say your name so you could get your powers back?”

“Yes,” he said. “But that was back before I really knew you. I thought you were just another kid I could haunt.”

Lydia glared at him. Furious. She stormed past him, back into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. He kept talking as she started getting dressed. 

“Babe,” he said, leaning against the door. “I want you. I want to be your family. You keep saying you need a living person, if you marry me then that won’t be a problem anymore.”

Lydia opened the door, wearing her usual funeral attire, her glare still painted across her face. “You used me before to get your powers back, how do I know this isn’t just some ploy to become human so you can pull off some other nefarious deeds.”

He fought back a laugh. Lydia could tell. She rolled her eyes and walked past him again, over to her bookshelf. He followed her. She pretended to ignore him as she scanned the spines of her books.  “Lydia, it’s all different now and you know that.”

She pulled _Carmilla_ off the shelf and turned back around to face him. “And if I _do_ agree to marry you, and you bring my dad and Delia back, what exactly am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey guys, you know that demon that terrified you and sent you headed for the hills? Well guess what? Now he’s my husband!’ Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes again, “great idea.” 

She made to push past him again but he grabbed ahold of her arm, stopping her. He pulled her back in front of him and met her gaze. “Listen, doll, I want you and you just admitted you want me. You marry me and I’ll be human, so what’s the issue?”

“How do I know you won’t leave me once you’re human?”

That struck a chord inside the ghoul. He tightened his grip on her arm. “I promised I’d never leave you.”

Lydia glared at him again. She tried to tug away but he wouldn’t let her. “How old are you anyway?” She asked.

He laughed. “Oh what? Now you want to talk about whether or not our age difference is appropriate?” 

Lydia bit her lip. He had a point. “Well,” she said, “how old were you when you died?”

“Thirty,” he said evenly.

Lydia rolled her eyes yet again, much to his annoyance. “Okay great. And I’m gonna be eighteen in a few days. That sounds like a wildly appropriate age gap for a marriage.”

This time he rolled his eyes to mock her. “Yeah, babe, because like I said, now all of a sudden you care? You didn’t care when you had me in your bed last night.”

Lydia ground her teeth together to fight the urge to let her jaw drop open in offense. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She tugged on her arm again and this time he relented. She hesitated for a moment and then turned and headed to the door. He stood and watched her try and turn the knob, but the room was still sealed. She turned around to shoot him another nasty look. “Open the door.”

“Why? So you can try and run away again?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “So I can go downstairs and make coffee.” Before she could even blink the two were suddenly in the kitchen. Lydia felt her stomach churn as she looked back at him, this time her mouth embarrassingly agape. He smirked. “Fuck you,” she said. His eyebrows raised in amusement and she shook her head in disgust as she turned towards the coffee pot and began to scoop ground coffee into the filter.

She heard Beetlejuice come up behind her and soon felt his arms snake around her waist and pull her against him. She remained as still as she could, her hand hovered over the bag of coffee. 

“So you gonna try and tell me now that all those kisses didn’t mean anything to you?”

Lydia tried to maintain her focus and finished shoveling coffee into the filter before shoving it in the machine and pressing the brew button. She laid her hands flat on the counter top as Beetlejuice pulled her closer to him, leaning his head down so it was right next to her ear again. He kissed her gently on the side of her throat, and her body cursed her with a shiver.

“Marry me, babe,” he said softly. He pressed another kiss to her throat and began to trail them down her neck, his tongue sliding over the spot where he'd bitten her, a beautiful bruise now forming. 

Lydia pressed her palms hard into the counter and closed her eyes, fighting the desire to give into his touch. “Why?” She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you want me?”

Beetlejuice’s mouth didn’t falter in it’s beautiful assault of her skin as he moved his head to begin kissing the other side of her neck. Lydia sighed softly, despite herself, and without thinking, tilted her head to the side to grant him easier access. He pressed his hands against her stomach and pressed himself against her. “Because,” he said in his guttural tone, the one she had come to identify as that of lust, “you’re perfect.”

Lydia scoffed softly. “No I’m not.”  


He bit her shoulder, not as roughly as he had the other, but enough to make her gasp and lean her head back against his shoulder. “You’re perfect for me, babe.” Without realizing it, Lydia slowly reached her left hand up to cup the back of his neck and began to lean her whole weight against him. He held onto her tightly his mouth never relenting as he kissed her. Finally, when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he grabbed hold of her hand and spun her around to face him, pressing her back into the edge of the counter. “Be with me,” he said, resting his forehead against her.

She held his gaze, a riot of butterflies in her stomach. “I am,” she said softly.

He held her hand between them as he leaned in and kissed her. She let him. When he pulled away, they both kept their eyes closed as they continued to let their foreheads press against one another.

“Think about it,” he said softly. “Please.”  


Lydia wanted so badly to hate him. To see him as the terror everyone else did. But her heart simply wouldn’t allow it. “Okay,” she whispered.

And he kissed her again.

* * *

After several cups of coffee, night fell over the haunted house. Lydia could hear the Maitlands nervously pacing around in the attic. She knew she should go up and check on them, console them that everything was alright. But she also knew that her definition of ‘alright’ probably differed heavily from theirs. 

Her and Beetlejuice were sitting on the couch in the living room, she was reading from her complete collection of the works of Edgar Allan Poe, specifically _The Masque of the Red Death,_ and Beetlejuice had the TV on softly in the background. When she finished the story she peeked up to see what he was watching; ‘The Creature from the Black Lagoon.’ She stifled a laugh. 

She had her legs stretched out in front of her and he was sitting at the other end of the sofa, having given her her space to read. She nudged him with her foot. He turned to look at her. “If you were human you’d have to like…get a job right?” He smirked. “I’m just saying,” she said, shifting in her seat, feeling foolish under his amused gaze, “you can’t keep…haunting if you’re not dead.”

“I would imagine you’re right,” he said cooly.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Well, how is that even going to work? What can you do with no birth certificate or…resume? When did you even die?”

Her last question hardened his features a bit. She noticed. “That doesn’t matter.” She was inclined to disagree but knew better than to push the subject. “Don’t worry so much, babe,” he said calmly, turning back to the TV. He was hoping she’d turn back to her book, but of course she didn’t.

“When you’re not here, are you in The Netherworld? With the other dead people? Or do demons go somewhere different than ghosts?”

“All demons are ghosts, Lydia,” he said without taking his eyes away from the screen.

She scowled, not appreciating his condescending tone. “You said you sold your soul to become a demon,” she said, noticing the way he was clenching his jaw, but choosing to ignore it. “What does that mean? I thought your soul was what made you a ghost.”

He finally turned to look at her. “Where’d you get that idea from, kid? The bible?”

She dropped her gaze back to her book. “Don’t call me _kid_ ,” she grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” He asked, nudging her leg playfully, trying to bring back their easy energy from earlier. He tried to remind himself it would be easier to interpret her emotions once he was alive again. 

Lydia looked back up at him and held his gaze. He expected her to keep prodding him about the logistics of his death, but instead she asked something much more shocking: “If we got married then we’d be expected to have sex, right?”

This time it was Beetlejuice who had to fight the reflex to let his clenched jaw fall open in surprise. He tried his best to maintain his cool demeanor, he didn’t want a human to be the one to visibly undo him. “Expected to by who?”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know? Society? How would this marriage even work legally? If you’re dead? It would be legal in what, The Netherworld? Does that translate to legal here in the living world? Because in the living world, as backwards as it is, marriages have to be consummated to technically be considered legitimate.”

Beetlejuice just stared at her. She never ceased to surprise him. 

“Babe,” he said as calmly as he could manage in the face of her intense questioning, “I’m not going to force myself on you.”

“I know that,” Lydia said calmly in return. 

“Then why are you asking me this?”

“I just explained why.”

He sighed. That was true. “It would be legally binding by the rules of The Netherworld. No it would not be legally binding by the rules of the living world since everywhere in the living world has it’s own laws.”

“Then what’s to stop us from going off and marrying other people?” She asked.

“I don’t want to marry someone else.”  


Lydia felt his words rest heavily and firmly on her heart. She didn’t know him to be a liar, a trickster maybe, but not a liar. He’d withheld information from her in the past but he had never presented any that was false. If he was telling the truth, that he _truly_ wanted her—well, it was a more serious emotion than Lydia was prepared to face at that moment. “I don’t…” she inhaled sharply as Beetlejuice met her gaze again. His eyes were full of lightning. “I don’t want to either, but life is long, you could change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question.”

He reached out gently and placed his hand on her leg. His cool touch sent a chill down her spine. She hated how easily she came undone at his touch. “When you die your soul goes to The Netherworld and it is drawn to your soulmate. That’s not necessarily the person you’re married to legally in the living world, it’s the person you…” his voice trailed off. When he didn’t quickly finish his sentence Lydia nudged him again to pull him out of his reverie. He looked at her again, with her moon-pale skin and raven-black hair. _God, she’s stunning,_ he thought. The poltergeist hated emotions, they confused him (he’d never admit it but they _scared_ him), but damn it did Lydia make him feel so many.

He picked her legs up and pulled them across his lap, dragging her down the length of the couch towards him in the process. She made a little gasp of surprise as he did. When she was closer to him, he gently took her book from her hands and set it aside, she was so entranced by his gaze that she didn’t even care that he hadn’t bothered to place her bookmark in its proper spot. He took ahold of her hands and kept his gaze steady with hers.

“Your soulmate is the person you choose to want the most. When you die, that’s who you’re drawn to in The Netherworld. It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be anyone from your life.”

“And you…” she said softly, her voice taking on a breathy quality that drove him mad, “want me to be your soulmate?”

Beetlejuice didn’t say anything at first, just kept looking into her ocean-blue eyes. “I’d like to try.”

“But if you already died,” she said, “don’t you already have one?”

Again he didn’t respond, and as Lydia searched his eyes for the answer to her question, the sadness in them helped her slowly piece it together. He’d sold his soul. _Not everyone has a soul mate_ , she thought to herself. Was that why he’d chosen to become a demon? Or was there a different reason? She didn’t want to push him on this, as badly as she wanted to know—she realized she wanted to know everything about him—trying to pry the information from him, she suspected, would only make him hold on to it tighter. 

Instead of speaking anymore she leaned in and kissed him lightly. “Let’s go to bed.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know how to be happy, and all my family does is try and force me to be. Do you know what it’s like to be berated for not feeling an emotion you don’t even know how to feel?”
> 
> For the first time in over a hundred years, Beetlejuice thought back to when he was alive. He felt an ache in his chest that he hadn’t felt since the day he sold his soul. He closed out the space that had somehow formed between him and Lydia and took her face in his hands. She was so delicate he was afraid he’d break her if he held onto her too tight, but that was all he wanted to do. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I know exactly what that feels like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your kind comments warm my heart, i'm so glad yall like this story. NEW CHAPTER ON MONDAY!

Chapter Thirteen

Lydia emerged from the bathroom to find Beetlejuice already in bed beneath the covers, with one of her books open. _The Starless Sea,_ it was one of her few books that wasn’t a classic. She came over quietly and stood beside him. “That’s one of my favorites.”

He glanced up at her. “It’s confusing.”

“It’s supposed to be.” She gently took the book from him and walked over to her desk and pulled a bookmark from the cup where she kept her collection of paper placeholders. She marked his book and returned to the bed, climbing in on her side. She turned off the bedside lamp and laid down facing Beetlejuice. For awhile they just gazed at each other across the darkness. 

“What was your plan?” She asked softly. “Originally. It obviously wasn’t to propose to me.”  
Beetlejuice took one of her hands in his own. “I don’t know, doll,” he said gently. “Haunt this place for awhile then head elsewhere to find more folks to scare.”

“Why?”

He shrugged as much as one can while laying down. “What else is there? I’m a demon, babe. That’s what we do, people call upon us to terrify in a way that regular old ghosts like the squares upstairs can’t.”

“But I didn’t call on you for that,” she said. “You just asked me to make you visible. You said people can’t see you, that it was rare that I did.”

“That’s correct,” he said.

“Then how do people know to call on you?”

“Urban legends, campfire stories, a bunch of hocus pocus, stuff like that.”

“That doesn’t seem like a strong basis for employment.”  
It took him a second to register the sarcasm in her words and when he did, he smirked and reached around her waist to slide her closer to him, kissing her gently. She laughed lightly against the kiss. He wrapped both his arms around her then and the two settled into the calm of night, waiting for sleep to slowly claim them. Even as she laid there in his arms, the night barely in it’s prime, Lydia was already feeling guilty for what she was going to do.

* * *

As they sat under the giant tree in the cemetery, the rain still beating down, Lydia felt a stabbing pain in her chest as she looked into the eyes of the demon.

“I never meant to,” she said softly.

“I know, doll,” he said with a weak smile. 

* * *

The clock on Lydia’s bedside table read 3am. The witching hour. Lydia rolled over to check that Beetlejuice was asleep before getting out of bed as quietly as she could. She slipped back into her dress and layered her black trench coat over top, then pulled on her boots. She grabbed her black satchel from her desk chair and packed a few things inside: hoodie, extra shoes, toothbrush, phone, a copy of _Frankenstein._ Then she creeped towards the window. She realized earlier that it was the only part of the house that wasn’t sealed off since she’d been able to sit on the roof yesterday. She checked back on Beetlejuice one more time before opening the window and slipping out.

Once on the roof she tip toed over to the drainpipe and looked down. She tried to calm her nerves and keep her hands from shaking as she grabbed onto the pipe and wrapped her legs around it tightly and then began her slow and terrifying descent to the ground. After a small eternity she was close enough to let go, she crashed to the ground on bent knees and tumbled forward. She looked up nervously to make sure Beetlejuice hadn’t heard her. When she realized the coast was clear, she took off running down the hill. 

When she reached the bottom of the hill she turned towards the cemetery to cut through it to get to town faster. There was only one hotel in town so she figured that’s where her dad and Delia would be. 

It was an ironically gloomy night, the sky was grey and starless and a thick fog had settled over the graveyard. “Talk about pathetic fallacy,” she muttered under her breath. 

She weaved throughout the tombstones, and was halfway across the cemetery when a chill ran through the air, knocking into her like a harsh wind. She froze in her tracks and looked all around her. She was alone. She turned to keep walking when a pair of ice-cold arms snaked around her, pinning her arms to her sides and a gravely voice whispered in her ear, “You’re a little liar, Miss Lydia Deetz.”

_Damn it._ She thought. She didn’t say anything, just stayed perfectly still in the demon’s arms. How had he caught her? He was sound asleep when she left. As if reading her mind, Beetlejuice said: “You’re the one who’s said my name last. We’re connected, babe. You can’t run anywhere that I won’t find you.”

His words made her blood run cold. The sinister tone in his voice was more demonic than any he’d ever taken with her. Still she didn’t speak or move. He chuckled in her ear. His cool breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“The other night you begged me not to leave ya, and now you’re running away from me in the middle of the night. You’re a fickle little girl.”

“Don’t call me _little girl.”_

“Ah, so she _can_ speak.”

“Stop it, Beetlejuice,” she said, her voice wavering and still barely above a whisper.

“Stop what, dollface?” He hissed in her ear. “Stop you from running away? If that’s what you want, it ain’t gonna happen.”

“I was going to come back,” she said.

He scoffed. “Yeah, I bet. With your daddy and a priest to exorcise me.”

“No,” she whispered.

“I can’t trust ya anymore, babe.”

“Yes you can,” she said, she felt betraying tears begin to pool behind her lashes. 

“You said you wanted me,” he growled.

“I do.”

She expected him to keep berating her, instead he kissed her neck, sinking his teeth into a different spot. Not as deep and hard as before, but enough to make a soft mewl escape her throat.

“You’re _mine_ Lydia.”

She wanted to challenge him. Tell him that people don’t belong to people. But she felt weak in the knees, and her head felt like it was floating away. She didn’t have the nerve. She had the terrifying thought that perhaps she didn’t disagree with him.

He spun her around to face him. His eyes pierced her like arrows. He was mad and for the first time since they met he was making her feel uneasy. Not scared. But not comfortable.

“You said you’d marry me.”

“No,” she said evenly. “I said I’d think about it.”

“Is this how you _think about_ things?” He sneered. “Sneaking off in the middle of the night like a scared little girl.”

Lydia huffed, indignant. “I’m not a little girl, and I’m _not_ afraid of you.”  
He gave her one of his dastardly grins as he leaned in close, his lips centimeters away from her own. “ _Prove it.”  
_ Lydia remained frozen. Then she moved forward onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his. It only took him a second to wrap her up tightly in his arms and push her mouth open with his tongue. She tilted her head back and moaned as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He wrapped her up in his arms and carried her over to one of the tombstones, placing her down on top of it. He continued to ravish her and she continued to let moans and sighs escape from her mouth. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he hissed against her neck.

“ _No,”_ she whispered. He bit her neck again, and growled like an animal. Hungry for his prey. She felt hunted and she refused to be an easy meal. 

“Tell me,” he said again.

He captured her mouth once more, his hands roaming down her body and landing on her thighs, slowly pushing her dress up further than he had before, she gasped as his tongue explored her mouth. She pulled away, gasping. “I hate you,” she breathed.

He smirked and nuzzled into her neck. “I adore you.”

She jumped off the tombstone and pushed against him, he caught her arms and kissed her again. She tugged on her arms as she stood up on her toes again so that she could better reach his mouth. She pushed against him with all her weight. He released her arms and wrapped her up again, dragging her to the ground. She was laying flat on her back on the dew-laden grass, before a grave, with a ghost on top of her. He wedged himself between her legs and thrust against her and she gasped again. _I’m supposed to be running away,_ she thought to herself, trying desperately to cling to any rational state of mind. But it was no use when his mouth and hands were on her.

“Stay with me,” he growled against her collarbone.

She tilted her head back further to gaze at the grey sky above. “You’re the loneliest person I’ve ever met,” she said softly. 

Beetlejuice pulled away from her slightly and she dropped her gaze back down to meet his. His anger had mixed with defensive sorrow. He hadn’t expected that from her. It hurt more than anything she’d said to him before.

“Well,” he said, letting her go. He leaned back, perched on his heels as she still lay sprawled out before him, “you’re the angriest person I’ve ever met.” 

Lydia just stared at him. She didn’t feel anger in that moment. Just a total and all encompassing emptiness. “Of course I am,” she said finally. This surprised him. Lydia made her way back onto her feet, ignoring the hand he offered to help her. The two stood there in silent frustration before Lydia spoke again. “My mother’s dead, my father won’t grieve her and took less than a year to replace her. Every time he looks at me he grimaces. He hates my clothes. The books I read. The emotions I feel. He treats me like I’m insane for being sad. He let a ridiculous ghost in a striped suit scare him away without even trying to protect me.” Beetlejuice flinched at that remark but Lydia kept going. “He’s engaged to a woman whose job is to force people to be happy. My only friends are ghosts, and the man who wants to be with me has asked me to marry him as an ultimatum.”

“Lydia,” he said sadly.

“So yeah,” she cut in, “I’m angry. I’m the angriest person you’ve ever met and you’re the loneliest. What a pair we make.” An awkward silence hung between them so Lydia spoke yet again. “I don’t know how to be happy, and all my family does is try and force me to be. Do you know what it’s like to be berated for not feeling an emotion you don’t even know how to feel?”

For the first time in over a hundred years, Beetlejuice thought back to when he was alive. He felt an ache in his chest that he hadn’t felt since the day he sold his soul. He closed out the space that had somehow formed between him and Lydia and took her face in his hands. She was so delicate he was afraid he’d break her if he held onto her too tight, but that was _all_ he wanted to do. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I know exactly what that feels like.” Lydia opened her mouth but couldn’t find any words. She looked into his green eyes, pooled over with angst; she let herself drown in them. “Please stay with me,” he said in a voice so gentle she almost couldn’t believe it had come from him. “I won’t ever try to force you to be happy. Be as angry as you want as often as you want. I don’t want you to be any different than how you are.”

Lydia couldn’t help it, she felt herself giving him a soft, sad smile. 

“It’s true,” he whispered, “we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” 

Lydia reached up and placed one of her hands on top of his. He was quoting _Frankenstein._ “You’re impossible,” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, and left his forehead resting against hers like he always did. “I know.” He kissed her once more. “Come home with me.”

Lydia pulled back a moment and held his gaze, before nodding. He took her hand in his and lead her back up the hill to the haunted house.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But when she set foot in the cemetery, Beetlejuice felt it. “Babe,” he muttered softly, sitting up in his own bed. He jumped to his feet and within seconds, was back in the graveyard he’d taken her too so long ago. He watched her gloomy silhouette make its way across the grass and come to stand before the familiar tombstone. He sat down on a another tombstone not far away and watched her lay down her rose. He waited several moments before he couldn’t stand the pain of their separation anymore. And then he’d called out to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: this chapter contains mention of suicide. 
> 
> *Thank you all SO MUCH for the kind comments & kudos, they really mean the world to me. Things are a little gloomy this chapter, but don't worry! It will all turn out right in the end. New chapter up on Wednesday!*

Chapter Fourteen

During Lydia’s senior year of college the darkness she’d felt on that rainy night on the roof all those years ago began to slowly consume her. The trauma of her assault freshman year, the immense loneliness she felt everyday, and the ache she felt from missing her family—including Beetlejuice—was becoming too much to bear. She often entertained the idea of returning to the haunted house and seeing her father and Delia and the ghosts, but even if the Maitlands would welcome her happily, she was afraid of how Beetlejuice would react. She’d left him invisible for years, and then gone out and collected yet another reason to be angry. She remembered how he’d said he would never try to force her to be happy, but people make all sorts of promises they can’t keep. Like how she’d promised she’d come back to him.

It was the night before her graduation when she finally gave in. She sat alone in her tiny apartment with several bottles of wine and a bottle of painkillers. She screwed off the cap and started to take some before she realized there was a slight chance that someone would find her and rush her to the ER, thus thwarting her plan. Her roommates were all out partying but if they came back too soon they’d be able to salvage her life. She didn’t want that. She wanted to die more than she had when she stood on the roof. She felt more alone than she ever had. So she got up, wobbling on her drunken legs, grabbed her car keys, and left.

She saw the streetlights as fuzzy orbs as she raced down the street, headed to the backroads that lead to the cemetery where Dead Mom was buried. _I’ll see you soon, Mom,_ she thought to herself as she sped down the dark streets, taking sharp turns. Once she was out of the city and engulfed in the black veil of night is when she decided it was time. She closed her eyes for a moment and muttered under her breath, “I’m sorry.” Who she was saying it to, she wasn’t sure; to her father, to Dead Mom, to the Maitlands…to Beetlejuice—to _herself_. She kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath, then jerked the steering wheel hard to the right and careened off the road. She let go of the wheel and let her car spin out, crashing into a tree, sending her head banging forward onto the steering wheel before the airbag could even deploy. Blood began to trickle into her eyes and she felt searing pain all throughout her body. She closed her eyes and let the darkness consume her.

* * *

She was standing outside a waiting room that seemed eerily familiar. Like a funeral home combined with the DMV. The sign on the door read, _This way to The Netherworld._ She sighed in relief. _I did it,_ she thought. But just as her hand reached out to push open the door she heard beeping and crying and yelling. She felt harsh lights pressing down on her. She felt the searing pain from before—when she was hunched over her steering wheel—begin to spread back throughout her body, and then the door vanished. The hallway to the waiting room melted away. She opened her eyes to find that she was in a hospital bed. Alive. 

She looked over through bruised eyes to see her father and Delia crying by her bedside. She later learned she’d been in a coma for a week. Her father told her that the Maitlands were beyond distraught that they couldn’t come see her. Everyone begged her to come home. But she was more certain than ever now that she never could.

The crash had broken her arm and several ribs. Delia stayed with her for several weeks to help nurse her back to health, with that same forced happiness that made Lydia want to scream. Her father had had to return to Connecticut for work. Delia begged her to come home, but Lydia refused. She still felt swallowed by the darkness. She was still too afraid to face her ghosts. To face her shattered promise. 

Once she was healed, Delia headed back to the haunted house. Lydia had missed her graduation, when her diploma came in the mail she had it framed and hung it up above her bed. Her roommates moved out and she was alone once again. She got a job at a coffee shop to supplement an unpaid internship at an indie arts’ magazine. The years passed by in a blur. She had meaningless sex with strangers she met in bars, she drank on nights when she felt lonely beyond belief, and she dreamed of the cemetery often. _I don’t want you to be any different than how you are._ Those words that Beetlejuice had said to her all those years ago played forever on repeat inside her head. Sometimes she’d lay awake at night and whisper his name two times, but she could never bring herself to say it that painful third time. 

And then Charles Deetz informed Lydia that he and Delia were going to spend a year abroad. “Come home,” he said for the millionth time. “Please. The Maitlands miss you. Come take care of the house while we’re gone. You’ve been alone for too long. The past is the past, Lydia. No one is mad at you. No one judges you,” she knew that was a lie. “Please,” he begged again.

“Okay,” she said.

Within a week Lydia had quit her job at the coffee shop, packed up a few belongings, and was on the train back home; her car having been totaled years ago and her father making sure she never got in one again, had left her to a life of public transportation. She got off the train first at the cemetery where Dead Mom was buried. She only had brought one bag with her which she left on one of the benches in the abandoned graveyard before walking over to Dead Mom's tombstone. Before hearing the ghoul’s voice.

Beetlejuice had felt the slight tug of her saying his name twice all those times. It stabbed him in the heart every time. But when she made her way to Dead Mom’s cemetery he felt the thread between them stronger than ever. It was a place they’d gone together. He didn’t need her to say his name at all. He could go. She’d be able to see him. He’d often wondered why she couldn’t see him the night he found her facedown against that monster’s mattress. The truth was that she _had_ felt him there. She’d known deep down he was near by, and she’d tried desperately to summon him. But her mind had been so far gone that she was blind to the other worlds she could usually see. It hadn’t mattered how thin the veil between the living and the dead was, the trauma of the moment had built up a wall between her and her demon.

But when she set foot in the cemetery, Beetlejuice felt it. “ _Babe,”_ he muttered softly, sitting up in his own bed. He jumped to his feet and within seconds, was back in the graveyard he’d taken her too so long ago. He watched her gloomy silhouette make its way across the grass and come to stand before the familiar tombstone. He sat down on a another tombstone not far away and watched her lay down her rose. He waited several moments before he couldn’t stand the pain of their separation anymore. And then he’d called out to her.

Now they were together again, beneath that big tree, sheltered slightly from the rain. He didn’t care that she’d broken her promise, he didn’t care that she’d sent him back to invisibility, all he cared about was that she was here with him now. He reached out and pushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “Why didn’t you come back to me?” He asked gently.

Lydia looked at him with those sad and stormy eyes that he adored. “I was afraid.”

“Of me?” He asked, the hurt in his voice was evident.

Lydia quickly shook her head. “No,” she said adamantly. “I mean…I was afraid of how you’d react to me…leaving you.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, I just wanted you back.”

She looked away. “You didn’t exactly react calmly when you realized how long I’d been gone.”

He sighed. “Well, babe, of course I didn’t. When I realized you weren’t going to come back for awhile I thought it was just while you were at school. I figured you wanted space—a _lot_ of space. I didn’t ever imagine you’d be gone a decade. I didn’t…” his voice trailed off for a moment. 

“Didn’t what?” She said, looking back at him. 

He met her steady gaze. “I didn’t think you’d _die.”_ Lydia didn’t respond. And he knew in that moment what had happened. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice giving away his obvious agony. “Lydia, no. You didn’t.”

“I felt so alone,” she whispered. “It all just felt like too much. I felt like I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“The crash,” he said, “you did that yourself.”

It wasn’t a question but she nodded anyway. “I drove my car off the road.” Beetlejuice didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I didn’t know how. After everything we’d said and done and—”

Beetlejuice moved forward in one fluid motion and captured her mouth in an icy kiss. It was the first time their lips had been connected in nearly ten years. Lydia was startled at first; but she had longed for this. She had thought she’d never get to experience it again. So she didn’t waste it. She leaned into him, giving in to the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he slowly pushed her down onto the damp ground beneath them. He propped himself up above her, wedging his knee inbetween her legs. He created a trail of kisses down her neck, the rain water on her skin tasted sweet on his tongue. He dragged a hand up from her waist across her chest and up her neck to hold her face in his hands. He brought his mouth back up to meet hers and swallowed her whole with another kiss, this one more violent and passionate than before. He pulled away from her slightly, his mouth resting lightly above hers.

“You’re not alone,” he said fervently. 

She smiled— _truly_ smiled—for the first time in what felt like ages. “I know that now,” she said against the rain. 

The demon smiled back at her, and kissed her once again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had never believed in the idea of fate and destiny, but the definition of ‘soulmate’ that Beetlejuice had given her had been so very different from any she had heard before. It was about two people choosing to want each other more than anyone else in the world. Lydia’s family had never made her feel like she had a choice in anything. Beetlejuice did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for the comments & kudos! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Fifteen

Three days passed in the haunted house and Charles and Delia did not return for Lydia. They tried, but Beetlejuice had made the house impenetrable. They’d come with a priest, an exorcist, even a shaman, but nothing worked. They weren’t going to get through until Beetlejuice let them. Lydia had accepted this. She found she did admittedly find relief in the small vacation from her dad and stepmother-to-be’s constant judgement. She had been so upset because she thought they _hadn’t_ come back for her. Knowing they had at least tried, gave her some solace. She wasn’t mad at Beetlejuice anymore for locking the house, she mostly felt sad for him. She could understand his loneliness, she could understand his fear of being left, ignored, forgotten. While she knew she would never tell her father or Delia that she was carrying on a romantic relationship with the demon that had sent them running for their lives, she had no plans to chant his name three times whenever they came back.

So in the isolation of the house they fell into a routine of waking up before sunrise, drinking too much coffee all day, reading Lydia’s classics, and watching old horror movies late into the night. They hadn’t done more than kiss since the night in the graveyard, Lydia wanted to, as did Beetlejuice, but she was unsure of herself and he wasn’t going to push her. 

On the third night, she felt like she was losing her mind. They hadn’t talked about the marriage proposal since he’d caught her running away, but she knew he hadn’t let go of the idea. She wanted to tell him _no_ again. But every time she tried to her tongue tripped up on the word. _I can’t actually want to marry a ghost,_ she thought to herself. She wanted to hate him, but she had already accepted that she couldn’t. She had never felt so seen, and accepted by anyone—not even her mother. That was what hit the hardest for her. _He’s not my soulmate,_ she told herself over and over again. She had never believed in the idea of fate and destiny, but the definition of ‘soulmate’ that Beetlejuice had given her had been so very different from any she had heard before. It was about two people _choosing_ to want each other more than anyone else in the world. Lydia’s family had never made her feel like she had a choice in anything. Beetlejuice did.

She was laying on her bed and she heard the shower running. She found it odd that Beetlejuice would want to shower, it wasn’t something she thought the dead did. But he also drank coffee and ate popcorn so she suspected he was corporeal enough to do whatever someone living could do. She sat up on her bed, still in the black dress she’d worn that day, and looked at the bathroom door. She felt a wave of insanity crash over her as she decided on what she was going to do next. 

She got up and walked over to the bathroom door, slowly easing it open so that Beetlejuice wouldn’t hear her. She stood there a moment, the steam settling around her, her eyes glued to the shower curtain. Then, with nervous hands, she reached behind her and unzipped her dress, letting it fall in a pool around her feet. She slowly peeled off her black lace stockings and then with a soft, tentative breath, she unhooked her bra and slipped off her underwear. She walked lightly over to the shower, and as delicately as she could, pulled the curtain back and slipped inside. 

Beetlejuice had his eyes closed and his head tilted back under the water. He felt the cool rush of air from Lydia opening the curtain. He opened his eyes and saw her standing there before him. Naked. Glowing. _Gorgeous_. If his heart still beat, she would’ve stopped it dead.

“Babe,” he said softly. 

Lydia shifted nervously from foot to foot. She felt empowered. She felt terrified. She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue. Beetlejuice let his eyes slowly roam down the full length of her body. Lydia remained perfectly still as he did. When he finally dragged his gaze back up to meet her own, his eyes were hungry with want.

“C’mere,” he said, reaching out for her and pulling her towards him under the stream of hot water. She almost slipped on the wet floor of the shower but he held her steady in his arms. When they were pressed chest to chest Lydia tilted her chin to look up at him, her nervousness evident in her eyes. He shook his head in confusion. In awe. “What’re you doing, dollface?” 

“I…I don’t know,” she said softly.

The ghoul smiled, then leaned in and kissed her gently. “So,” he said in that low wanton voice she had come to recognize as one he only used when he was hot with desire, “am I allowed to touch ya or are ya gonna make me suffer?”

Lydia pulled away slightly and met his gaze once more. She couldn’t help but smile. Even though they’d already been physical, and shared a bed, and now she was here presenting herself to him, he was still _asking_ her if he was _allowed_ to touch her. She found it strangely sexy, and it made her feel like she held more power over him than she ever had before. She nodded and the demon grinned.

He pushed her back against the shower wall, holding her tightly in place. He began to attack her neck with his mouth and she tilted her head back as he did. His hands moved from where they were wrapped around her back to trail up and down her sides. He slowly dragged them up and took each of her breasts in his hands. Lydia gasped as he dragged a thumb over one of her nipples. He laughed softly against her collarbone as he repeated the motion with his other hand. 

Lydia knotted her hands in his wet hair as he continued to rub his thumbs across her. He then dipped his head down and took one of her breasts in his mouth. He flicked his tongue across her nipple, causing a shiver to rack her body. He kept teasing her other breast with his hand as he bit down on the one in his mouth. Lydia cried out, the rush of the shower head drowning out her scream. Beetlejuice pulled away to look back up at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

Lydia looked down at him. She felt light-headed, and the pain in her breast had felt…good. She had never suspected she’d be someone who found pleasure in pain, but she realized in that moment that she wasn’t too surprised. She was death-obsessed and living with a demon she’d summoned for fun. It only seemed logical that her sexual awakening would not be a gentle and vanilla one. She shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “Keep going.”  
He grinned again and lurched back up to capture her mouth in another kiss. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth and she gasped again in shock when she felt his hand slide down her stomach and come to rest between her legs. She froze against his touch. She’d kissed boys before, even fooled around a bit with frantic and nervous gropes over the clothes here and there, but she’d never experienced anything like this; this was so intimate, so passionate, so…loving. 

The water beat down on them, the steam cloaking them from the world. There was no one else in the whole universe in that moment except the two of them. She was breathing heavy, the ghost was too even though he didn’t need oxygen. She was making him mad with want. He was falling in too deep, drowning in feelings he hadn’t felt in centuries, and he realized he didn’t want to swim to the surface; he wanted to sink into them as deep as he could. He kept his hand still, pressed again her. “Lydia,” he growled in her ear. He knew she had already said he could touch her, but it was one thing to run his hands across her, and another thing entirely to do… _this._

Lydia inhaled sharply and softly. “Beetlejuice.”

He groaned at the sound of his name on her tongue. She smiled as she said it. It tasted like sugar and to him it sounded like sweet music. Both were feeling a symphony of desire that was about to reach its crescendo. 

“I want you.”

She leaned forward a bit so her mouth was right by his ear. “Then take me.”

He lost all control at those three words. He moved his hand, thrusting two fingers inside her. Lydia mewled loudly, tilting her head back as she let the pleasure of his touch wash over her. He kissed her mouth with an intensity he never had before as he began to move his hand in a steady motion in and out of her. She rocked her hips against his fingers. Their mutual sounds of ecstasy and pleasure filled up every inch of space inside that shower. They made music with their bodies. With their mouths connected to one another. They were both insane. They wouldn’t admit it to each other, but they were so hopelessly, and dangerously in love. 

Lydia let out a deafening cry of euphoric joy as Beetlejuice curled his fingers over the perfect spot, finishing her. She whimpered slightly as she slowly floated down from the cloud she’d been resting on so high in the sky. Lofty from his touch. He buried his face in her neck, biting her, licking her, tasting her, devouring her. He didn’t retract his hand, just kept moving it. He wanted in that moment to give her everything he possibly could. She realized what he was doing. He would lose his mind in her body if she didn’t step in. She untangled her hands from his hair and took his face in her hands and dragged his gaze back to hers. The motion of his fingers stopped.

“Babe?”

“Look at me,” she said quietly.

It took him a moment to register what she meant, once he did, he felt momentarily terrified. But if this little gothic demoness was brave enough to present herself to a ghost, then he could be brave enough to face her as he ravaged her. So he began moving his hand again, keeping his stormy eyes focussed on hers. She cried with each movement. She felt tears welling up in her eyes from how sweet the pressure of his hand felt. She had never felt more alive than she did in that shower, against his hand, against his mouth, against _him._ She finished again and as she did he captured her in another kiss, wrapping her up in both his arms. He turned off the water and pulled back the curtain, dragging her out of the shower with him. She yelped softly as he picked her up in his arms and carried her dripping body back out into her room and placed her on her bed. He climbed on top of her and gazed down at her in awe. She pressed a hand gently to his chest as she worked to catch her breath.

“Too much?” He rasped?

She shook her head. “No.”

He rolled off of her and pulled the blanket across their naked bodies. The sun had long since set and the moon and stars had claimed the sky. He pulled her against him and nuzzled into her sweet-smelling mane of hair.

“I adore you,” he whispered as they began to drift off to sleep.

“I hate you,” she said around a smile.

The demon laughed softly, and held onto her as they both sank into the sweet darkness of sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia hesitated. Deep down she knew she had decided days ago what she wanted to do. She was just now admitting it to herself. She sighed again, shaking her head. “You’re right,” she said, “I’m young. I have a whole life ahead of me, and I don’t want to be afraid to live it. And…” her voice caught in her throat as she did her best to tamp down her rising emotions, “…I don’t want to have to spend it alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for the comments & kudos! New chapter on Monday!

Chapter Sixteen

Lydia didn’t sleep for long before her anxiety woke her up. It took her a second to remember why she was naked and wrapped up in Beetlejuice’s arms. As the events from earlier that night came crashing back over her like a tidal wave she felt lightheaded all over again. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d had the nerve. She looked over at Beetlejuice, he was asleep. She knew he’d be able to sense her wherever she went but she wasn’t going to go far.

She slipped out of bed and pulled on a black nightgown before heading upstairs to the attic. She knocked lightly as she opened the door to find Barbara sitting up in one of the armchairs, reading a book. She looked up when Lydia entered and immediately put her book to the side. “Lydia,” she said, beaming and sitting up straighter. “Are you okay?”

“Am I crazy?” Lydia asked, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could process them. 

Barbara’s smile softened a little. “No, honey, you’re not crazy.”

Lydia wanted to tell Barbara everything. She knew Barbara saw her as a daughter, but Lydia still saw Barbara as a friend—a wise, older friend. She wished she could feel like Barbara was her adopted mother, but Lydia saw her in a similar—albeit more positive—light to Delia; she was a replacement for something that couldn’t be replaced. It was because of all this that she decided to only tell Barbara some of it.

“He cares about me.”

Barbara’s smile faltered a bit, but she did her best to hide it. She didn’t ask who, she knew who Lydia meant. “You think so?” She asked. Her tone wasn’t condescending, it was concerned.

Lydia nodded. “I _know_ he does.” She came over and sat down on the window seat next to Barbara. “I don’t wanna use that cliche line about how he’s ‘different when we’re alone,’ because he’s…he’s still _him,_ it’s just we’re more alike than it might seem.”

Barbara openly frowned at that comment. “Lydia, he’s a demon.”

“He was human once.” That, Barbara did not know. She raised an eyebrow in question, so Lydia continued. “Demons are ghosts that sell their souls.”

“So you think you share qualities with someone without a soul?”

Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, doing her best not to get frustrated. She wished right then, more than she had in awhile, that Dead Mom was there. She _knew_ she’d understand this better than Barbara ever could. “He wants to be human again,” she said as evenly as she could, “for me.”

“And how exactly will he do that?”

Lydia opened her eyes to look at Barbara, she knew she would regret what she was about to say. “He asked me to marry him.”

Barbara felt her heart sink. “Oh, Lydia.”

Lydia shook her head and jumped to her feet. “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she said, heading to the door.

Barbara got up and raced after her, grabbing onto her arm lightly to turn her around. “Lydia, wait, I’m sorry. Help me understand. I just…Lydia you’re so young. You’re only seventeen.”

Lydia turned around to face Barbara, gently pulling her arm free from her grip. “I’ll be eighteen in a few days.”

“Lydia, that’s not much better. Beetlejuice is hundreds of years old.”

“He died when he was thirty.”

“How on earth is that better?” She asked. “That’s a twelve year age difference.”

“People have done that,” Lydia said, shrugging, trying to act like this was a completely normal and casual thing she was talking about. “Plus haven’t you ever read a paranormal romance? Once one of the characters is…otherworldly, different rules apply.”

“Lydia,” Barbara said with a sigh, “this isn’t _Twilight,_ this is real life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with _Twilight.”_

“You’re missing the point,” Barbara said.

“No, I’m not,” Lydia said firmly. “You think I _am_ being crazy. You think this is a stupid decision.”

“Have you _made_ a decision?” Barbara asked nervously. 

Lydia hesitated. Deep down she knew she had decided days ago what she wanted to do. She was just now admitting it to herself. She sighed again, shaking her head. “You’re right,” she said, “I’m young. I have a whole life ahead of me, and I don’t want to be afraid to live it. And…” her voice caught in her throat as she did her best to tamp down her rising emotions, “…I don’t want to have to spend it alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Barbara said, reaching for her, but Lydia pulled away.

“I don’t want to spend it only with people who can never really understand me, either.”

Barbara felt that blow deeply. But she knew on some level that there was truth in Lydia’s words. She loved this girl, but she knew that she could never replace her mother, and she knew she would never truly understand Lydia; and it was plain as day to anyone that Charles and Delia didn’t, and most likely wouldn’t ever _fully_ understand her either. Barbara didn’t want Lydia to be alone or feel unseen and misunderstood, but she didn’t know how to cope with the idea of Beetlejuice being the one to give her everything the rest of them couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Barbara said quietly. “Adam and I love you. You know that, right?”

Lydia nodded. “I know.” With that she turned and headed back downstairs. She knew there was only one person who would understand how she was feeling and help her come to a final decision—Dead Mom.

* * *

Barbara had been so preoccupied with her horror over Lydia telling her about Beetlejuice’s proposal that she hadn’t noticed when Lydia swiped _The Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ as she left the attic. Once back in the hallway she flipped through the pages until she found the chapter on The Netherworld.

_Use this chalk to draw a door and knock three times. Bring the chalk with you if you need to return to the living world, but be wary, once a soul enters The Netherworld, it is hard to ever come back._

Lydia turned the page and a piece of chalk magically appeared and fell into her hand. She looked nervously back at her closed bedroom door. Beetlejuice would sense when she left this realm and crossed over into the next. She just hoped she could get far enough that he wouldn’t be able to catch her this time. She was going to come back, she just needed to see Dead Mom first and she knew this may very well be her only chance. So she drew the door, knocked three times, and stepped across the veil that hangs between the living and the dead, and into The Netherworld.

Beetlejuice shot upright in bed and raced out into the hall to see the telltale Netherworld green smoke wafting in from the door Lydia had drawn. “God damn it, Lydia,” he said under his breath. “What have you done?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Netherworld was the only place people went when they died. Which meant that the people religions said went to hell, were most likely roaming around here; the good and the bad of the living world mixed together in this land of eternal night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter yet! I rewrote it several times to get it just right, hope you enjoy! New chapter will be posted on Wednesday!

Chapter Seventeen

Lydia walked through a green, smoky abyss that seemed almost never-ending. It felt like time had stopped moving, it felt like she was walking forever while also staying still. Just when she thought it might drive her mad, the smoke gave way to a dark city street. It looked similar to New York but there was something off about it. Like the way familiar places look in your dreams; everything seems wobbly and slightly out of focus. Lydia stood there, barefoot, in nothing but her black nightgown, and gazed up at the various buildings towering above her. She tilted her head back to look at the night sky which was cluttered with too many stars and several different moons. She could also see a planet in full focus that she could swear looked a hell of a lot like saturn. 

She had no idea where to start when it came to finding Dead Mom, but what Beetlejuice had said about soulmates kept bouncing around in her head. He said it didn’t have to be someone you had a romantic attraction to, so maybe Dead Mom was her soulmate and she could just…find her. Lydia knew it was a weak plan, but she was already here, she had to try. She started walking down the street and even though it wasn’t crowded, occasionally someone would pass by and give her an odd stare. It took her awhile to realize that they could tell she was alive. Lydia surmised that _live_ people were most likely not welcome in the land of the dead. She started doing her best to keep to the shadows but noticed more and more people whispering to each other as they saw her walk by. _This isn’t good,_ she thought to herself. 

It only took several more steps before she realized someone was following her. She tried to pick up her pace without making it obvious but she could tell by the heavy footsteps behind her that her pursuer wasn’t relenting, so she started to run. She heard the stalker begin to chase her, but she was fast. She rounded corners ahead of him, her heart racing, her anxiety skyrocketing. She thought she might pass out from the panic in her chest and how lightheaded her oncoming anxiety attack was making her when a pair of arms reached out from the the shadows of a narrow alley beside her and dragged her into the darkness. She tried to scream but a hand clamped down over her mouth while a strong arm held her firmly in place. The body she was pressed against had a familiar smoky, earthy scent to it. She realized who it was right as his voice whispered in her ear:

“Be quiet, babe.”

She remained still in Beetlejuice’s grip, the two of them cloaked in darkness, and watched as her stalker raced by the alley, taking no notice of them. She couldn’t make out anything about the ghost that had followed her, other than that it was a man. She felt her body shake a little from nerves and Beetlejuice’s grasp on her tightened, but not in a threatening way, he was trying to comfort her, remind her that he’d keep her safe. But Lydia only felt her stomach become knotted as she realized that The Netherworld was the _only_ place people went when they died. Which meant that the people religions said went to hell, were most likely roaming around here; the good and the bad of the living world mixed together in this land of eternal night. It didn’t take a lot of sleuthing for Lydia and Beetlejuice to realize why that man had been following her and what he had planned to do if he’d caught her. 

When the stalker was finally out of sight and his footsteps had faded into the distance, Lydia thought Beetlejuice would let her go, but instead he started to drag her down the alley, further into the darkness. Lydia tried to wriggle against him, but he held her tight in his grasp. When she finally kicked him in the shin he grumbled and removed his hand from her mouth. She took that opportunity to try and get out of his hold on her but he grabbed her by her arms and pulled her back, pinning her against one of the brick walls of the alley.

“Stop it,” he growled.

“Let me go,” she said loudly. Beetlejuice was on edge, afraid of them being found out. He heard more footsteps approaching and he leaned his body against hers, holding her arms in place, pinned against the wall.

“ _Stop_ _it_ ,” he hissed again, closer to her ear. 

He shielded her with his body as another set of ghosts walked by the alley and down the street. They didn’t notice the couple but if they had they would’ve just assumed they were two lovers having a late night trist. Beetlejuice had kept Lydia’s body hidden enough that the glow she carried with her as one of the living wasn’t visible from the street. When the coast was clear, he pulled back a little, still holding Lydia against the wall.

“Let me go,” she said again.

He glared at her. “Why? So you can run off and do something stupid that will get you killed? Yeah, sorry dollface, not gonna happen.” She wriggled against his grasp again which only made him tighten his grip. 

“Don’t treat me like a child,” she said.

“Then stop acting like one,” he growled. Lydia glared at him. “Seriously, babe,” he said, “what the hell were you thinking coming here? Oh wait, let me guess, you came to find your mom.”

Lydia seethed at his annoyed tone. “So what?” She said angrily. 

“ _So_ ,” the demon was losing his patience, “she’s dead. We’ve been over this. You’re alive. You’re not supposed to be here, it isn’t safe. And I’m getting real tired of having to run after ya.”

“You didn’t have to follow me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, and you’re telling me that no part of you secretly wants me to come after you?”

Lydia wanted to snap back at him, but she couldn’t. _Damn it,_ she thought, chiding herself. Because the poltergeist was right. As much as she tried to convince herself that she didn’t want to be caught, there was that small voice inside her that was silently begging him to chase after her; to prove he didn’t want to let her go. But how could she admit that after all the arguments they’d had over who would inevitably end up leaving who.

“How did you even think you’d find her?” He asked. “The Netherworld is huge, everyone who’s ever died is here.”

“I thought I’d just…I don’t know…be able to.”

It took Beetlejuice a moment or two to realize what Lydia had been trying to do. He sighed, his anger dissipating. “Babe,” he said as kindly as he could manage, “she’s not your soulmate.”

“How would you know?” Lydia snapped.

“Because you’re not dead,” he said back, his anger returning. “Your soulmate is who you choose to go to in the _afterlife,_ Lydia. You’re alive, and you’re going to stay alive for a very long time, ya hear me?”

“Don’t talk down to me,” Lydia said.

“Then stop being a brat.” Lydia struggled against him again but his hold on her didn’t falter. “I gotta hand it to ya though, babe, you sure keep finding creative ways of leaving me.”

“I wasn’t leaving you!” She shouted.

At that he clamped his hand back down over her mouth. Lydia went to swing her now freed arm at him but he quickly caught both her wrists in his other hand and pinned them against her chest. “Lydia, babe, _please_ ,” he said, holding her in place “for the love of all that is unholy, shut up. If you keep shouting one of those scummy ghosts out there is gonna find us. They’re gonna take one look at how _obviously_ alive you are and then drag you down to one of the caseworker offices to have your soul ripped out. Is that what you want?” Lydia glared at him, but since her mouth was still covered all she could do was shake her head. “Yeah,” Beetlejuice said, a little more calmly, “I didn’t think so.” He removed his hand again and for a moment the two just stared at each other, a furious silence between them.

Lydia shifted against his grip yet again and this time he let her go. She darted away from the wall to stand before him, but when she started slowly walking backwards Beetlejuice realized what she was doing. He lunged for her as he tried to turn and run from him, back out onto the dangerous streets of The Netherworld. She made it a few paces down the alley but Beetlejuice was quicker than her. He had her in his grasp again and swung her up over his shoulder. He started walking towards the other end of the alley, a piece of chalk in his pocket, ready to draw a door and take them home.

“Beetlejuice,” Lydia said in her own, pitiful attempt at a growling voice. He held onto her tight but then she said his name a second time. “ _Beetlejuice_.” And he panicked, understanding what she was doing. He swiftly set her back down on the street and pressed her back up against the wall, his hand covering her mouth again.

“Don’t you _fucking dare,”_ he snarled. Lydia tried yet again to move against him, but this time he held both her wrists firmly in one hand above her, tight enough to bruise, and wedged his knee inbetween her legs, pressing her into the wall. “This is _not_ how it’s gonna be, babe,” he hissed, his stormy eyes searing into her. Lydia was slowly realizing the big mistake she had made. Not just in coming here, but in challenging him. But she was too proud to admit it, and with his hand over her mouth it’s not like she was able to anyway. The two just stared at each other, but Beetlejuice noticed Lydia’s gaze had changed from anger to unease. He felt his own rage start to lessen as his shoulders slumped forward. “Lydia,” he said, his voice a bit softer this time, “don’t be afraid of me.”

He slowly dragged his hand away from her mouth so she could speak. “I’m not.”

“Alright,” he said, not sure if he entirely believed her. “You’re just pissed at me.”

It wasn’t a question but Lydia nodded anyway. “Correct.”

Beetlejuice tried to stay calm in the face of her insolence but his demonic self was fighting to take control. “Well,” he said, squeezing her wrists harder, “I gotta say, babe, I’m pretty fucking pissed at you.” He expected her to argue but her look of unease simply morphed back to anger. _Fine_ he thought. _Two can play at that game._ “You keep lying to me,” he said. “You promise to stay and then you run away, just this time you picked the most dangerous place you could find.”

“I was going to come back,” Lydia said tersely.

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“Because I don’t lie.”

He growled softly, deep in his throat, the animalistic sound sending a small shiver throughout Lydia. The demon took notice. _Good,_ he thought. _Right now she should be afraid._ He pushed his knee against her thigh, hard, eliciting a small gasp from her. “You owe me an apology, babe,” he snarled lowly, leaning in close to her. 

Lydia held his gaze but refused to speak. 

He was fighting to keep his demonic anger side reigning, the last thing he wanted to do was have Lydia see him cave into the raw emotions she made him feel. “Tell me what I did to make you want to leave me again. After the shower, I thought…” his voice trailed off. 

Lydia’s anger didn’t waver but her voice wasn’t as callous as it had been at first. “You didn’t do anything. I’m _not_ lying. I _was_ going to come back.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” He growled.

“Because…” her voice got softer. “I knew you’d try and stop me.”

“Dollface, there would’ve been no _try._ I _would’ve_ stopped you.”

She glared again, but didn’t try and argue. Deep down she knew he was right. That this had been a stupid idea, a way to try and runaway from her own emotions instead of facing them. But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting she was wrong, so she kept her lips sealed shut.

“You owe me an apology,” he said again, leaning in so his mouth was right by her ear. His cool breath racking her body with shivers yet again. He continued to press his knee firmly against the inside of her thigh and Lydia had to bite her lip to keep from whining from the pain. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“No,” Lydia breathed.

He pulled back to look at her and to Lydia’s surprise, he wasn’t glaring at her anymore, he was smiling. He had one of his dastardly grins painted across his lips, and that unsettled her more than if he had just glared at her.

“What was that, dollface?” He asked, his voice taking on it’s cruelly taunting tone. “I could’ve sworn you said _no.”_

Lydia jutted out her chin. “That’s correct,” she said as confidently as she could, but she was painfully aware of how weak her voice sounded. “I’m not sorry.”

He shook his head, clicking his tongue at her like she was a child. He dropped the hand that wasn’t holding her wrists in place down to graze the inside of her thigh, eliciting a soft sigh from her. “What was that, darling?” He fake cooed in her ear.

Lydia tilted her head back, the increasingly endearing use of pet names wasn’t lost on her. She remained silent as he dragged his hand up her thigh. She realized this was no longer about the initial anger but instead about control. They’d somehow fallen into a power play, and she wished she wasn’t as turned on by it as she was.

“If you’re not sorry, baby, then I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson.” Lydia kept her eyes closed as Beetlejuice planted a cool kiss right beneath her ear. “Last chance, Lydia. Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll stop.”

Lydia said nothing. 

He chuckled softly. “Very well.” His hand snaked up the length of her bare thigh and under the hem of her silk nightgown until it came to rest across her underwear, his palm cupping her firmly. Lydia gasped at his touch and he hissed in her ear again. “You don’t want me to stop, do ya, babe?” Still Lydia remained silent. He laughed again and slowly pushed her underwear aside until his cool fingers resting between her thighs. This time she couldn’t keep her sharp inhale silent and he just kept chuckling to himself. Lydia was both furious and intoxicated with him at the same time. “Do ya want me to touch ya, babe?” He whispered in a leering voice, his breath was a cool rush against the sensitive skin by her ear.

Lydia gasped softly as she felt his fingers begin to dance around outside her, like they were playing a sweet tune on a piano and not waiting for the go ahead to perform sinful deeds. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice nothing more than a pitiful pant. 

Beetlejuice didn’t need anymore encouragement than that. He thrust two fingers inside her and Lydia whined softly, tilting her head back against the brick wall as Beetlejuice began to move his hand against her, his fingers making a painstakingly slow exploration; pressing against her, searching for the spot that would make her scream. When he found it he felt her legs shake so he thrust himself against her, his knee still pressed into her thigh to keep her upright. She mewled as he began to work the spot. Every time that she thought she was close, he would slow his movements again. She was panting and making soft sounds of pleasure and want that were driving Beetlejuice mad. Her sexual frustration was boiling up inside of her, she felt like she was going to explode.

“Beetlejuice,” she whispered.

She opened her eyes to find his green ones looking on at her intensely. “What is it, babe?”

She panted openly as he continued to move his fingers slowly. She opened her mouth to speak just as he inserted a third finger. Her mouth formed the shape of a perfect O as she fought the urge to cry out from the sweet pain and pleasure of the pressure his fingers were creating inside her. 

“Please,” she gasped as he continued to switch between a rapid pace to a punishingly slow one.

“Please, _what_?” He leered, leaning in closer to her again, but never tearing his eyes away from her.

“Let me…” her voice got lost in her own sighs again as he switched, yet again, to a faster pace.

“Oh,” he said in a mocking voice, like he hadn’t known all along what she wanted. Beetlejuice was well aware of what he was doing to her, but her anxiety-inducing antics of running off into The Netherworld and risking her life made him want to keep her final pleasure just a little bit out of reach for a little bit longer. “You want to me to let you finish don’t you?” 

Lydia nodded, her face red, her legs shaking. Beetlejuice decided then to return to the slow pace and he chuckled a bit at the begging look in Lydia’s eyes. 

“Tell me you’re sorry,” he said.

Lydia wanted so badly to reach the point she had earlier that night in the shower, but her pride was as strong as his. So she closed her mouth and did her best to ride out the insufferable teasing he was putting her through. 

“Lydia,” he said in his taunting voice. “Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll let you finish.” Still she said nothing. So he took his hand away altogether and Lydia nearly screamed from the buildup he’d left within her.

“Beetlejuice,” she gasped.

“Tell me you’re sorry for scaring me and running into fucking _hell,”_ he hissed in her ear. “Admit you were wrong, Lydia.”

“You’re punishing me.”

“Um hm,” he said, nuzzling against her neck, placing his hand against her again. She shivered from the torturously light touch. 

“I scared you?” She asked, her voice so breathy it made him mad with want.

He moved his hand and thrusted against her, causing her to gasp yet again. “Yes,” he growled.

“I scared a demon?” She said, her voice taking on its own taunting tone. “I’m just a human girl.”

At that remark, he bit her neck; the same deep, skin-piercing bite from the other day. Causing Lydia to practically choke on the scream she had to swallow. “Yes,” he growled against her freshly bloodied shoulder. “You fucking scared me, babe. Now say you’re sorry or I’ll leave you in this state.”

He swore he could hear Lydia whimper, her wrists, he was still keeping pinned above her head, shifted a bit in his grip. “Don’t do that,” she breathed. All of the bravado in her voice was gone and replaced with begging. “Please.”

He moved his mouth to hers and kissed her. She moaned. He growled. “Say. You’re. Sorry.” He thrust his fingers back inside her and she gasped loudly and sharply from the wonderfully intense pressure.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

“Good girl,” he said. Then he dropped to his knees before her and pulled her underwear down her legs. 

“Beetlejuice,” she breathed.

“Shhh, baby,” he said, coaxingly. “Be quiet now.” And then his mouth was on her. 

Lydia used her now freed hands to cover her mouth to help muffle her moans. Beetlejuice gripped the back of her thighs as he flicked his tongue across her and then began to push it inside of her. He felt one of Lydia’s hands grip his shoulder, her nails digging in, her knees shaking. 

“Promise you won’t do this again,” he growled.

She was so close; she knew she’d go mad if he didn’t finish her right then and there. She realized she’d say anything he wanted her to if it meant he’d finally allow her that sweet release. 

She moved her hand away from her mouth and placed it on his other shoulder. He had retracted his tongue, waiting for her answer. “I promise,” she gasped. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

He returned his attentions to lavishing her but then quickly stopped again.

“Beetlejuice,” she whined desperately.

“Promise you won’t do _what_ again, Lydia?”

She quaked against his violent affections. “Run away,” she breathed. “I promise I won’t run away again.”

Satisfied, the demon returned his tongue to her center and devoured her. Lydia moved one of her palms back over her mouth and practically screamed against her skin as Beetlejuice finally finished her. As she began to come down from her euphoric high, Beetlejuice slowly slid her underwear back up her legs and rose back up to standing before her. He took in how amazing she looked and for a moment he couldn’t believe that this girl was his. That she allowed him to do things like _that_ to her. Not only allowed but _begged_ him to. He reached out and wrapped her up in his arms. She pressed her face against his chest and he tilted forward a bit to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and she really did mean it. “I don’t want you to go away.” Their anger and passion play had begun to melt away to make room for this newfound gentleness they had for each other. The two were coming down from their anger spirals together, and it wasn’t an easy descent. “I’m sorry if people have left you in the past, but I’m not like them.” At that remark Beetlejuice stiffened a little, trying desperately to repress the memories of his life and Lydia took notice of how tense his body had become against hers. She pulled back slightly and reached up to take _his_ face in _her_ hands. “I swear, I was going to come back. You’re...you're _my_ _person_. I’m not going to leave you.”

Beetlejuice closed his eyes, and for the first time in centuries, felt like he wanted to cry. Of course demons _can’t_ cry. But those sweet words from Lydia’s mouth filled him with a surge of emotions he couldn’t even begin to process. He did his best to not let them consume him, but Lydia made him feel more vulnerable than anyone else ever had. Usually he would see that as a bad thing, but with her it felt powerful to just boldly… _feel._

When he could finally bring himself to open his eyes and look at her again, he could see that her own eyes were glistening. She wasn’t crying but he could tell in that moment that she was as full of bittersweet emotions as he was. 

“Why did you come here?” He asked again. She opened her mouth to answer but he cut her off. “I know it was to find your mom but why would you do that? I told you it was dangerous.”

Lydia dropped her hands and Beetlejuice felt the pain of their absence immediately. She looked up at him, unsure of how to answer. She searched for the right words and found there weren’t any. So she settled on the truth. “I needed her opinion. Her advice.”

“On what?”

“On something I’m realizing now I’d already made up my mind about awhile ago. I guess I was just second guessing myself and needed someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy. I tried to talk to Barbara but she didn’t get it.”

“Well that’s not surprising,” Beetlejuice said, a little callously. “You two are nothing alike.”

Lydia nodded. “I know, but who else was I going to ask? Even if Dad and Delia were around, they wouldn’t have been able to help either.”

“So you came to The Netherworld for validation?” He asked, confused.

“Well now it sounds stupid.”

“It’s not,” he said. “But you said you’d already made up your mind before coming here.”

Lydia nodded. “I had. But, like I said, I second guessed it. I wondered if I’d gone mad.”

“Well,” he said slowly, “what finally made you realize otherwise?”

“You.”

“Lydia…”

“Ask me again.”

Beetlejuice froze. Could she really be saying what he thought—what he so desperately _wanted_ her to be saying? He opened his mouth to speak but Lydia placed a hand on his chest, her touch as light as a feather. “No,” she said. “Do it properly.”

And then he _knew._ He knew for sure what she meant. He gave her his Jack-O-Lantern grin that she loved, and reached into his pocket to remove the ring she didn’t know he’d been saving—been hoping he could give to her. He’d never been one to feel guilt, demons so rarely do, but when Lydia accused him of only asking her to marry him as an ultimatum he’d felt the weight of it like a cinderblock on his chest. He hadn’t _felt_ in ages, he was learning all over again how to care about another person, and Lydia, with all her anger, was admittedly not the best teacher. But the two were learning together, they were growing together. He’d hoped Lydia would come to _want_ this as much as he did, and finally, here was his proof that she did. He wanted her to have proof too, that he wasn’t just conning her or using her. He’d had the ring hidden away since before they first kissed. He was going to give it to her for her birthday. Now though, it meant so much more.

He got down on one knee, holding onto her left hand. Lydia smiled softly, her eyes still glistening but no longer from anger or sadness. For the first time in her life, she had no doubts about her own emotions. She felt confident in every feeling she was experiencing. _I have a right to this,_ she thought. _I trust myself._

“Lydia,” Beetlejuice said gently, in the voice of a living, breathing, _feeling_ man—not the voice of a demon. The sound of it nearly broke her heart it was so sweet. “Will you marry me?”

Lydia didn’t hesitate. She nodded. “Yes.” 

He had never smiled so much in his life _or_ his afterlife as he slid the ring on her finger. She looked down at it and almost laughed at how perfect it was. It was shaped like a small, black spider, with a plum-colored diamond in the middle. She looked at it a moment before looking back up at him. She had barely met his gaze before he was on his feet again, reaching out and pulling her face to his, kissing her with more fervor than he ever had before. When they finally pulled apart they were both grinning.

“Beetlejuice,” Lydia said softly.

“Yes?”

“Take me home.”  



	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just what?” Beetlejuice asked, looking up at her with a taunting smile. “Just tell them you summoned a demon to terrify them out of their own home as punishment for ignoring you and your ghost parents upstairs?”
> 
> Lydia punched his arm. “Stop being a jerk.”
> 
> “Now why would I do that?”
> 
> Lydia rolled her eyes again. “I hate you.”
> 
> The ghoul grinned as he lunged for her, grabbing her left hand, the one wearing his engagement ring, and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He dragged himself on top of her and kissed her. “I adore you,” he murmured against her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the sweet comments & kudos! New chapter will be up on Friday!

Chapter Eighteen 

“Come home with me,” Beetlejuice said as he propped himself above Lydia after their kisses had become rain soaked beyond all belief. They’d been in the cemetery for well over an hour and the sun was setting. Lydia propped herself up on her elbows and it wasn’t lost on either of them how familiar this all was. All these years later and they’d fallen into their old patterns. Lydia had spent so many years terrified that it could never be the same between them again, but here they were, like no time had passed. 

“Okay,” she said. She could tell Beetlejuice was surprised at how easily the answer came. He was expecting to have to beg her to stay; to have to endure her leaving all over again. But no, she was ready now, to finally go back to the haunted house—to go _home_.

Beetlejuice jumped to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. She nodded towards one of the far benches where her bag was getting soaked from the downpour. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and the bag was in his hand. Lydia smirked as he reached out with his other hand to pull her in close. His cool fingers glided over the small of her back as he pressed her close to his chest. She blinked and the New York cemetery was gone. They were back in Connecticut. Back in the haunted house. In the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee pot.

* * *

When Beetlejuice and Lydia emerged back into the upstairs hallway of the haunted house, it was still dark outside. 

“Lydia! There you are!” Barbara shouted as her and Adam came rushing down the attic stairs.

“Uh…yeah,” Lydia said nervously, glancing at Beetlejuice. The door to The Netherworld had already vanished behind them so she wondered why the Maitlands were so distraught. Had they come to her room to check on her?

Beetlejuice sighed in frustration, having realized what had happened. “How long were we gone, Babs?”

“What’d you mean?” Lydia asked, looking at Beetlejuice. “It couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours, if that.”

“You two were gone for _three_ days,” Adam said.

“What?” Lydia said in shock.

“Sorry, babe,” Beetlejuice said placing a hand on her shoulder. “Things got so…out of hand back there that I forgot to mention that time moves differently between here and The Netherworld.”

“Why on earth would you take her there!” Barbara shouted. “You’re the one who told her it was too dangerous in the first place.”

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at Barbara. He did his best to tolerate her because he knew she meant a lot to Lydia, but even back when he had a soul he had very little patience for people like the Maitlands. Life was so simple to them that they assumed it must be so for everyone else, and that anyone who lived outside of the narrow rules they’d set for themselves, must be crazy. “I didn’t take her there,” he snarled. “She ran in and I went after her. Don’t go blaming me,” he said, snapping his fingers. Suddenly the Maitlands’ copy of _The Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ appeared in his hand and he held it out before Barbara. “Dollface here swiped this from the attic after yer little heart to heart.”

Barbara stared open-mouthed at the book, while Adam just looked on in confusion. “Lydia,” Barbara said in that gentle voice that Lydia was beginning to find irritating; it dripped with pity. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help. You went to find your mom, didn’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lydia said, trying to brush it off and deescalate this entirely uncomfortable situation. She’d been living in the haunted house for several months now and she could count on one hand the number of times she had interacted with all of the ghosts at the same time. The Maitlands were Casper the friendly ghost types and Beetlejuice…well… _wasn’t._ “Beetlejuice stopped me. I realized how dumb it was to go rushing into hell. Nobody got hurt, so we were gone a little longer than expected, no big deal. Besides,” she shrugged, “Beetlejuice is going to unseal the house, right?” She shot him a determined look and he rolled his eyes sarcastically. 

“Sure, doll, anything for you.” He snapped his fingers again and the veil that had been shielding the house melted away. Lydia didn’t feel much of a change, just that the air seemed to thin out a bit.

“Your dad and Delia have been camped outside all weekend,” Adam said. “Trying to get it.”

“Oh,” Lydia said quietly. She wanted to see them again, but she wasn’t exactly mentally prepared to do that right away. She figured getting stalked through the land of the dead and then fooling around in an alley with a demon before getting engaged to him was quite enough adventure for one night; even if that night had lasted three days. “Well, now they’ll be able to get in.”

“Well obviously,” Adam said, fighting the urge to groan. He knew Lydia wasn’t his daughter and that he had no say in her friendship with the stripe-suited ghoul, but that didn’t make him any happier about it. While Barbara was slowly starting to try and see things from Lydia’s perspective, Adam was of the same mind as Charles and Delia, who though he’d never _really_ met, he was confident that they too wouldn’t like this friendship Lydia and Beetlejuice shared.

“Relax,” Beetlejuice started to say but just then the four heard the door bang open and the high pitched voice of Delia bickering nervously with the deep baritone of Charles Deetz.  “Oh, shit,” Beetlejuice said. He, too, wasn’t ready to deal with all this. He looked at Lydia and the Maitlands, who all shared his nervous expression.

The three ghosts and the goth walked over to the main bannister railing that overlooked the main foyer of the old house. They could hear the Deetz’s, they just couldn’t see them yet. As Delia’s heels clacked closer and closer on the floor it was Barbara who turned and whispered to Beetlejuice, “Can they see us?” The night of the possession the Deetz’s had still failed to see the Maitlands due to their ignorance to see the strange and unusual, but demons however were a different story. Once Beetlejuice’s name was spoken, anyone could see him.

“I don’t think s—” but a shriek from Delia cut Beetlejuice off. The four turned and looked to see Delia and Charles standing below them in the foyer, looking up in horror. Charles had a crucifix in hand and Delia had a spray bottle labeled _Holy Water._ Lydia had to actively fight the urge not to groan and roll her eyes. 

“You!” Charles shouted, jutting the crucifix in Beetlejuice’s direction. Then his eyes landed on the Maitlands. “Who the hell are you people!”

“Well,” Beetlejuice said, “that’s answers that.” Then the demon waved his hand through the air and the four of them were transported to the attic, the door locking behind them. 

“What the—” Adam said, looking around, taking a moment to register what had just happened.

“Okay, folks,” Beetlejuice said, “we need a game plan.”

“Here’s an idea,” Adam snapped, getting his bearings, “ _you_ leave and never come back.”

Beetlejuice glared at Adam but Lydia placed her hand on Beetlejuice’s arm. “That’s not happening, Adam,” Lydia said firmly. “Beetlejuice is staying.”

“Lydia, he barred your family from the house!”

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t great.”

Adam threw his hands up in the air. “Unbelievable.”

“Adam, sweetie,” Barbara cut in, “Lydia’s the only person here who’s actually _lives_ in this house, so we have to respect what she wants.”

“She’s a child!” Adam shouted, dramatically gesturing to Lydia. 

Lydia’s grip tightened on Beetlejuice’s arm and both Barbara and the demon visibly grimaced at Adam’s outburst. Adam was understandably frustrated, but had no idea how much what he’d just said had hurt. Lydia’s fingers dug deeper into Beetlejuice’s arm and he placed his other hand on top of hers. The Maitlands noticed this small exchange of gentle affection between the two and had no idea what to make of it. The two had an ease about them that seemed almost impossible for _any_ two people to have around one another, especially two people who’d only known each other a few months— _especially_ two people where one of them was a soulless demon.

“Lydia!” Charles Deetz shouted, banging on the attic door.

“Party’s here,” Beetlejuice said sarcastically. “Alright, here’s what we’ll do. Dollface here already told her folks you lovely Maitlands were haunting the house, so I’ll explain that to them, tell ‘em I possessed y'all as well and that you’re bound to the house forever due to dying here, blah blah blah. I’ll zap Lydia here into her room and she can say I possessed her too. Then you’ll all be in the clear and we can move on with our evening.”

“But…what about you?” Barbara asked.

Beetlejuice made a dramatic show of putting his hands over his heart. “Oh, Babs, don’t tell me you suddenly care about little ol' me.”

“No,” Barbara said, “I just…well, how are you going to explain your… _relationship_ with Lydia to her parents.”

“What relationship?” Adam practically shouted.

“Open up!” Charles shouted again, banging louder on the locked door.

Before anyone else could jump in, Beetlejuice grinned wickedly. “It’s showtime.” And just like that the Maitlands were alone in the attic, Lydia was back in her room, and Beetlejuice was standing behind the Deetz’s on the attic stairs. “Hiya, folks!” Charles and Delia whipped around to face him, pure terror on both their faces. “So, Chuck,” Beetlejuice said, climbing a step closer to Charles, “finally come to save your precious daughter from the big, bad, demon?”

Charles Deetz weakly held the crucifix up before him. “Stay back demon!” He shouted.

Beetlejuice laughed and with a flick of his wrist the crucifix turned to dust in his Charles’ hand. Charles cried out as the dust ran through his fingers. “Listen Deetzs,” Beetlejuice continued, “I was just stopping by, having some fun. And I have. Had me a few laughs and all. I felt bad for the Maitlands up there, ya see? They’ve been haunting yer house for months, ever since they died in here, and y'all couldn’t see them. So I thought I’d come in and spice things up, add a little _umph_ to their afterlife, and now I have. So I’ll be on my way.”

Beetlejuice turned to flounce down the steps but Charles called out after him. “What did you do to Lydia!”

Beetlejuice turned around and smiled, playing innocent. “Nothing, Chuck. _She_ called _me_.” When Charles and Delia looked at him in horror, he laughed again. “It’s alright, she didn’t know what she was getting herself into. She felt so bad for her pals the Maitlands, and y'all wouldn’t listen to her. Said she was playing jokes—making it up. Well,” he spread his arms out wide, “maybe now you’ll learn to listen to your daughter.”  


Then he vanished.

* * *

Lydia was pacing back and forth in her room when Beetlejuice appeared on her bed. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

Lydia spun around to see him laying there, his suit jacket off and draped over his shoulder. He shot her one of his wicked grins and her annoyance began to dissipate. She marched over to him. “Why’d you zap me in here?”

“I needed to handle yer folks on my own.”

“No you didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “Babe, I’m not arguing with you about this. What’s done is done. You, yourself, said it wouldn’t go so well to announce you’re engaged to a demon.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to tell them _that_ I was just—”

“Just what?” Beetlejuice asked, looking up at her with a taunting smile. “Just tell them you summoned a demon to terrify them out of their own home as punishment for ignoring you and your ghost parents upstairs?”

Lydia punched his arm. “Stop being a jerk.”

“Now why would I do that?”

Lydia rolled her eyes again. “I hate you.”

The ghoul grinned as he lunged for her, grabbing her left hand, the one wearing his engagement ring, and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He dragged himself on top of her and kissed her. “I _adore_ you,” he murmured against her mouth. 

Just then there was a frantic knock at her door. “Lydia!” Delia called from outside. “Can I…can I come in?” She asked nervously.

Lydia looked at Beetlejuice. “ _Hide.”_

The demon chuckled as he rolled off her bed, and then to Lydia’s complete awe, climbed through her vanity mirror and vanished. Lydia just stared at the glass, dumbfounded for a moment before coming to her senses and hopping off her bed and rushing to the door. She opened it to see a very frazzled Delia standing there, for once she wasn’t wearing one of her obnoxious fuchsia dresses, but a light grey one. She looked at Lydia, tears in her eyes. Before Lydia could even get a word out, Delia pulled her into a hug. Lydia froze against her embrace for a moment before wrapping her arms around her and letting her future stepmother quietly cry against her shoulder.

“We were so worried,” she said between soft sobs. “Your father and I, we were terrified that… _thing_ had hurt you.”

Lydia just stood still, her arms stiffly wrapped around Delia’s back. “He didn’t,” she said as gently as she could. “He just sat downstairs and watched old movies.”  


Delia pulled back and looked at Lydia like she was expecting her to say she was joking, when she didn’t Delia furrowed her brows in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah, demons are weird.”

At that, Delia laughed and hugged Lydia again, this time Lydia was a little more welcoming to it. “I’m sorry,” Delia said softly, still holding Lydia close.

Lydia wanted desperately to demand to know _what_ Delia was sorry for. She wanted her to say it all; give a list of reasons on how she had belittled and ignored Lydia’s grief and depression. But Lydia knew there was no point. This was the best she was going to get out of someone like Delia. Someone who had no idea what it was like to live in a world where you weren’t just fighting against negative thoughts, but one where _all_ you _have_ are negative thoughts. 

“It’s okay, Delia,” Lydia said as she gently pulled out of the embrace. “But I’m exhausted. I’m gonna go to bed. Can you…can you tell my dad I’ll talk to him in the morning?”  
Lydia may have been able to handle Delia right now, post demon-engagement and Netherworld escapade, but her father was a whole other level of stress waiting to be steeped upon her. 

Delia wiped at her eyes and nodded, one of her overly forced cheery smiles plastered back across her face. “Of course, goodnight, Lydia.”

“Goodnight,” Lydia said as Delia closed the door. Lydia pressed her ear to listen to the sound of Delia’s footsteps fading down the hall before turning the lock on her door, the soft click felt as loud as thunder within the now silent house. She turned back to her mirror and rushed over to it. She pressed a hand to the surface, but it was just regular smooth glass. For a moment she panicked. 

What if he really wasn’t coming back? What if this had been the ultimate long con haunting to mess with her? She felt an anxiety attack bubbling up inside of her as she climbed onto her vanity and pressed her palms against the mirror as hard as she could. But nothing happened. She wanted to call his name, but if she said it more than twice he’d be invisible again, and she didn’t understand the rules of this mirror magic. Would he be able to get out? Where did it even lead? The Netherworld or someplace else? _Was_ there someplace else? She softly banged her fist against it, the impact making a pitifully light thud, before she gave up and rested her forehead against the cool surface. “ _Beetlejuice,”_ she whispered. But he didn’t come. “ _Beetlejuice,”_ she said again. Nothing. 

She felt sudden hot and angry tears in her eyes. She climbed down from her vanity and got into her bed. _He’s really gone,_ she thought while absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. She fought desperately with her mind to tell herself that it wasn’t true. That he was coming back. _He’ll be here in the morning,_ she told herself as she drifted off to sleep. _He’ll be here in the morning._


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “By the arm of the Giant, by all that the Hunter’s arrow has destroyed, I’m calling out into the void. I am not afraid to pass through, though I know not where I may go. I call on my demon,” she took a shaky breath and finished the incantation, “as above, so below.”
> 
> And then Lydia was truly like Alice, falling through the mirror. It turned to liquid at her touch and with a soft yelp, she tumbled through. For the second time within a week, Lydia had left the world of the living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit shorter, but a longer one is coming on Monday! Thank you for the kudos!!! <3

Chapter Nineteen

Three more days passed and Beetlejuice didn’t return. Lydia fell into a depressive episode. She barely got out of bed. She didn’t spend much time on reading or photography or talking to anyone. Delia had even given up on her sunshine and rainbows spiel. Charles had already been hesitant to talk to his daughter, having no idea how to go about it; he was already so poor at understanding her to begin with, but no parenting manuals prepared you for when you’re locked out of your house for a week while your daughter is trapped inside with a bunch of ghosts. Delia tried to encourage him to talk to her, but he simply had no words. He wanted to tell Delia that Lydia’s mother would’ve known what to say, but he never brought her up with his new fiancée so the sentence stayed trapped in his mouth. Barbara and Adam may not have liked Beetlejuice but even they had to admit there must’ve been something to his and Lydia’s relationship if she was this distraught without him.

After the third day without him, Lydia decided if she wanted him back she had to figure out how to do it herself. _If he can chase after me, I can chase after him,_ she thought to herself. 

Lydia had dropped out of school and switched to homeschooling (essentially teaching herself) after her freshman year of high school when she had tested at three grade levels above and the school district had refused to skip her ahead even one grade. Dead Mom insisted her daughter was too smart to be trapped in ninth grade, and Lydia had gladly agreed. Because she had to resort to teaching herself ever since Dead Mom _became_ Dead Mom as opposed to just ‘Mom’ Lydia had gotten extremely good at research. Beetlejuice told her the only way people knew to call on him was urban legends, and campfire stories. If that was true then, like all folklore, there had to be an origin. 

It only took Lydia a few hours to gather the information she needed. She learned that Betelgeuse was the tenth brightest star in the night sky and second brightest in the Orion constellation. She figured that had to mean something. She dug deeper and found mentions and translations of the word in Arabic and Persian folklore. She mades notes on all of it. She also learned about the power of three within Witchcraft. She jotted down page after page of notes, late into the night, gathering anything she could find on the subject. She learned about the old wives tale about those who took their lives being doomed to eternal servitude in the afterlife. She found out about the idea that in death people remained in whatever state they were in when they died. This proved unfortunate for those who died in gruesome ways. The Maitlands had fallen through the floor to the basement. They’d hit their heads, that was all. Lydia wondered what about Beetlejuice’s appearance gave away how he died? 

At 3 in the morning she finally found her way to articles about mirror magic. She read everything from fan theories about Lewis Carroll’s _Through the Looking Glass,_ to witchcraft blogs about people using them for scrying, and others on occult forums about ways to use them to contact the dead. After she had half a notebook full of scribbles about her undead fiancee, Lydia had an idea on how to get him back.

She laced up her black combat boots, and pulled a black sweater over her floor length, gauzy black dress. She climbed back onto her vanity and pressed her palms against the mirror’s cool surface. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on Beetlejuice’s face. His stormy green eyes, his wicked smile, his smoky lips. 

“By the arm of the Giant, by all that the Hunter’s arrow has destroyed, I’m calling out into the void. I am not afraid to pass through, though I know not where I may go. I call on _my_ demon,” she took a shaky breath and finished the incantation, “as above, so below.”

And then Lydia was truly like Alice, falling through the mirror. It turned to liquid at her touch and with a soft yelp, she tumbled through. For the second time within a week, Lydia had left the world of the living.

* * *

Beetlejuice had swiped one of Lydia’s books, this time another classic, _Jane Eyre._ He knew it was one of her favorites, and while it was slow to start, by the time Mr. Rochester showed up he understood why Lydia liked it. He chuckled to himself, seeing that Lydia had a history of enjoying questionable romances. He turned another page when there was a thud and a small yelp from outside his door. He froze. No one had come right up to his door in decades. He wasn’t aware that anyone even still knew _how._

He tentatively put the book down on the table beside his bed and blew out the candle. He crept through the darkness, over to the door and leaned his ear against the old wood. “Who’s there,” he said, his voice was demonic. There was silence, he heard the soft sounds of someone breathing. _A living person?_ He thought to himself in surprise. “Who’s there?” He asked again. He heard a soft sigh of what sounded like relief.

“Beetlejuice?” Lydia whispered.

Beetlejuice jerked and quickly threw open the door to see his bride-to-be standing before him in her usual demoness attire, except she was covered in dust and a bruise was forming on her cheek from where she’d hit her face when she fell. He stared at her, aghast. “Babe,” he whispered, reaching out and pulling her close. He wrapped her up tightly in his arms. Lydia almost began to cry she was so relieved. He wrapped one arm around her back and used his free hand to gently smooth down her dark locks. He glanced out into the inky abyss that surrounded his poor excuse for a home, to see if there were any other creatures lurking that might’ve brought Lydia here. Because, in that moment, he truly couldn’t fathom any other way she could’ve gotten there.

The coast seemed clear, but he was still nervous. Lydia held onto him, not saying anything as he slowly dragged her inside and closed the door. He held her a few moments longer in perfect silence before speaking. “How did you get here?” He asked, his face nuzzled into her hair. 

Lydia didn’t pull away from him, just spoke her muffled words into his chest. “I googled it.”

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how surprising her answers always were. He stopped stroking her hair and pulled away slightly to hold her by the shoulders. “You… _what_?”

Lydia sniffled a bit, biting back tears of panic and relief. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back or that you couldn’t get back and I was afraid to say your name three times because what if that made you invisible? And I was afraid you didn’t want to come back, and that…I don’t know—that everything had been a big scheme because how could it not be, ya know? Like wait, what? A sexy demon wants to marry me?” She was so anxious her words were just falling out before she could even register she was saying them. “So I googled your name and I learned about the star and everything, and the folklore, and then I looked up the meaning of all the numbers, ya know; 10, 2, 3, and then mirrors and death and suicide legends and basically—it took me a few hours—but I found the incantation to travel to you.”

Beetlejuice just stared at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I suspected you wouldn’t want me to come but I just had to know why you didn’t come back and you always come after me so I thought—”

“Lydia,” he cut in, silencing her, “how long have I been gone?” The words hurt to ask as he slowly began to realize his mistake, silently cursing himself for being so stupid.

“Three days.”

“Fuck,” he murmured pulling her in close again. She relaxed against his embrace, deeply inhaling his smoky scent. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was reading a book and lost track of time. I’m an idiot. It couldn’t have been more than half an hour here.”

“So you were going to come back?” She whispered against his shirt, her tears finally betraying her, her anxious depressive spiral finally unfurling and melting away. 

He moved back and took her face in his hands. His rough skin felt so good against hers. She leaned her jaw against his palm and kept her eyes closed, praying the tears would stay trapped behind her lashes. 

“Lydia,” he breathed, leaning in closer to her, “look at me.” It nearly destroyed her to do so, but she opened her eyes and let her tears fall. Beetlejuice felt a stab in his chest at the sight. He’d seen her tear up before, but never openly cry. And now he was the cause of it. “Lydia,” he repeated her name, “you’re _my person_ , I will always come back to you.”

Lydia opened her mouth in a silent cry and as she did he crashed against her, his lips devouring her like he hadn’t seen her in a lifetime. She pressed her whole body against him and the two briefly drowned in each other before Beetlejuice finally broke the kiss and asked, “what incantation?”

Lydia didn’t miss a beat as she repeated it back to him. He pulled away again to gaze at her in awe. “You’re phenomenal,” he breathed. 

“What?” Lydia asked.

“Doll, no one’s found their way to my door in decades, and I don’t even remember the last time a living person did. I knew you were smart, but good gods, this is something else.”

It was then that Lydia finally stopped and took in her surroundings. They were in a small room with nothing but a twin bed covered in a black blanket, a small table beside it where a snuffed out candle, a bottle of wine, and her copy of _Jane Eyre_ rested. The rest of the room was nothing but barren wood walls and floor. She looked up and took in how low the ceiling above them was, and then registered how damp and cold the air felt. 

“Where are we?”

“My coffin.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice’s eyes shot open. He felt a thousand emotions crash over him. The force of it all was so strong that he stumbled forward and Lydia had to steady him. Three hundred years. That’s how long it had been since anyone had called him by his human name. He had almost forgotten it himself. He inhaled sharply. Feeling the pain of feeling, truly, deeply feeling, for the first time in centuries beat down on him like a bat. Lydia held onto him as he fought to catch his bearings. When he finally did and was able to stand upright again, he cupped her face firmly in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CONTENT WARNING* there are some very brief mentions of suicide in the beginning of this chapter, so please take care when reading. 
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for how kindly you've reacted this story, it means so much to me. The timelines are getting closer and closer to meeting up with each other, and more and more secrets about why these two fell apart are slowly becoming clear. We're at about the halfway point in the story, so thank you as always for sticking with it. New chapter on Wednesday!

Chapter Twenty

Lydia just smiled dumbly at the old coffee pot. She hadn’t seen it in a decade and yet it was a sight for sore eyes. She turned to beam up at Beetlejuice just as Barbara squealed in joy from the doorway: “Lydia! You’re home!” Before Lydia had even a moment to process, her ghostly friend had crashed into her, wrapping her arms snuggly around her. “Oh my lord how we’ve missed you!” Lydia hugged her back and breathed in her familiar scent of lemon and mint, mixed with the homey smell of old books. As Barbara took a step back to look at Lydia she noticed Beetlejuice leaning against the far counter. “Oh,” she said. “Did you bring her home?” 

Beetlejuice nodded. “I’ll give you two gals a moment.” He left the kitchen and headed upstairs to put Lydia’s bag in her room. Once he was gone, Barbara turned back to Lydia.

“What took you so long?” She asked, if ghosts could cry, she would. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I know it’s been years. I know you finished school, but…”

“Time moves differently when you’re dead,” Lydia finished for her. Barbara nodded. “I’m twenty-seven, Barbara,” Lydia said, guilt sinking deep in her chest as she saw the smile fall away from Barbara’s face.

“Oh, Lydia,” Barbara said, reaching out and taking her hands in hers. Then she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure Beetlejuice wasn’t lurking nearby before turning back to Lydia. “You said his name.” It wasn’t a question, but Lydia nodded anyway. 

“I was afraid he’d never forgive me,” Lydia said quietly.

“Oh, honey,” Barbara said. “Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

Barbara gave her hands another squeeze. “Lydia, that man, he…” she sighed and gave into a smile. She didn’t care too much for the demon herself, but over the years she had come to see what he and Lydia had meant to each other. She had come to see signs of the human Beetlejuice had once been, the soul he used to have. “He adores you,” she said. “He always has.”

* * *

_His coffin?_ Lydia thought. But then other parts of her late night research began to come together; the fragments of Beetlejuice’s story, the things he clearly didn’t want to tell her—was _afraid_ to tell her—all began to make sense. “Oh,” she said softly. 

Beetlejuice wasn’t sure what she was thinking, she was still such a wild card to him, nearly impossible to predict. He was starting to wonder if even if he had his full range of emotions back if there would still be parts to Lydia that he would always be discovering. This dark little goth was full of never ending surprises. 

Lydia reached up with shaky hands to the tie around his throat, remembering lines from numerous articles she’d devoured that night. The folklore, the legends and tales of the dead. The star he was named after. Demons, mirrors, the power of three. And now here they were in his _coffin._ So many of her questions, she realized, she had had the answers to since the very beginning. She gently placed her fingers against the fabric of his tie and Beetlejuice closed his eyes. He sighed as he felt Lydia begin to tug on the fabric, undoing the knot from around his throat. He was terrified (something he hadn't been in centuries) but he didn’t stop her. 

When she had the knot undone, she gently pulled the tie free from under the collar of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. She then carefully undid the first few buttons of his shirt and peeled back the collar. She wasn’t surprised by what she saw, she’d caught glimpses when they showered together, but it saddened her nonetheless. There, as she’d begun to expect during all her searching and scanning for ways to find him, was her answer as to how he died. A red welt, forever etched across his throat. This was the state he was forever trapped in. This was the telltale sign of how he died, hidden behind a green tie. It explained the unnatural rasp to his voice. It explained why he’d sold his soul. It explained why he didn’t trust. Didn’t feel.

Lydia exhaled softly and placed a hand against his throat. Beetlejuice tensed a bit as he felt her fingers gently graze the length of the welt, her soft skin gliding across his death mark.

“You hanged yourself,” she said softly. Beetlejuice didn’t open his eyes just nodded. Lydia dragged her hand down to rest over where his no longer beating heart sat in his chest. He still kept his eyes closed, but placed his own hand over hers. Lydia knew what she was going to say next was risky, even for her, but she had wondered it for awhile. Before she had even started looking into his name. She had wondered why she’d felt drawn to the tombstone in the center of the graveyard as soon as she moved in, wondered about the night he ran after her and kissed her on the ground above the dead. And now— _here_ —she knew all she needed to. 

“Your name,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper, “is Lawrence Orion. Isn’t it?

Beetlejuice’s eyes shot open. He felt a thousand emotions crash over him. The force of it all was so strong that he stumbled forward and Lydia had to steady him. Three hundred years. That’s how long it had been since anyone had called him by his human name. He had almost forgotten it himself. He inhaled sharply. Feeling the pain of _feeling,_ truly, deeply feeling, for the first time in centuries beat down on him like a bat. Lydia held onto him as he fought to catch his bearings. When he finally did and was able to stand upright again, he cupped her face firmly in his hands. 

“Lydia,” he rasped, “how… _how?”_

Lydia smiled at him, a sweet, sorrowful smile that he felt pierce him to the very core. But it was a beautiful pain. “It was your grave,” she said. “You kissed me on top of your grave that night. It was your grave we laid down over. We laid on the ground over _this_ coffin. You’d been there the whole time. Right outside my door.” He opened his mouth to question her further, but thankfully she kept speaking, saving him the pain of having to ask. “Names have power, but you already knew that. Lawrence means fierce, and Orion is a hunter from Greek mythology. Betelgeuse is the tenth brightest star in the Orion constellation, and the second brightest star in the night sky. Ten is a number associated in numerology with the power of a god, and two is associated with harmony. You, Lawrence _Beetlejuice_ Orion, are a demon with powers like that of a god. You hunt, with ferocity, those you wish to haunt. And if you ever wanted to not be invisible you wouldn’t be able to do it alone, you would need someone else to free you. You would need the harmony of someone else. Someone living. As above in the living world, so below in the world of the dead. So when you sold your soul and chose a new name, you chose… _Betelgeuse,_ ” she said the last word as only a whisper.

Beetlejuice felt as if this girl had killed him all over again. He never knew someone so incredibly angry could also be so kind. She had given him the greatest gift he had ever received. She had cared enough to _know_ him. To learn. “Lydia Deetz,” he whispered, pulling her close and kissing her again.

“The power of three,” Lydia said, finishing off her small speech, “it exists everywhere. From Abrahamic religions to ancient forms of witchcraft. Mother, Maiden, Crow, Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Say something three times and it will give it power, or make a mockery of it and take its power away.”

He kissed her again. “You’re a genius, dollface. I can’t…” his voice rasped again from feeling emotions he hadn’t felt in centuries. “I can’t believe you.” 

After another kiss Lydia felt him begin to laugh against her mouth. Lydia pulled away and smiled up at him, her tears drying on her cheeks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, nuzzling into her neck and planting kisses over the spots he longed to bite. 

“Not nothing,” she said around a bubbling laugh, pushing him back to force him to look at her. “Why’re you laughing after my big life-altering speech. Well… _afterlife_ altering.”

Beetlejuice chuckled again. “You’re perfect, babe.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Shut up. Why were you laughing?”

He leaned in quick and nipped at her collarbone. Lydia let out a soft, delighted gasp at the sharp, and quick pain. He kissed her neck more and Lydia tilted her head to the side to let his mouth have free reign to roam her skin. “Oh just, you know,” he murmured against her, “you can’t believe a _sexy_ demon wants to marry you.”

Lydia’s eyes shot wide open as she shoved him away. The poltergeist was openly laughing now as Lydia’s cheeks flushed from embarrassment. He reached after her, but she jumped back. 

“Oh come on, dollface, don’t be like that. It’s cute. I don’t think you’ve ever openly admitted to liking anything about me unless I beg ya to.” Lydia covered her face with her hands and groaned. He laughed yet again and approached her. She backed up again, sensing him moving in on her, but he was always quicker than she was. He pried her hands away from her now rose-shaded face and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You know you’re _allowed_ to like how I look.”

“I know,” she grumbled.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, pulling back and taking her chin in his hand, tilting it up so she met his gaze. She noticed that his eyes seemed brighter than usual. “You hate being all emotional. But you’re gonna be my wife, if ya can’t show your emotions to me, then who can ya? Hell, babe, you make me want to…” Lydia raised an eyebrow to tell him to finish his sentence. “ _Feel,”_ he concluded. “You make me _able_ to feel things I haven’t felt in centuries. So please, at least let _me_ see you be anything other than angry.”

Lydia wanted to argue with him, but she knew he was right. The only emotion she was ever comfortable showing was anger—rage even. She had gone so long with her forced persona that she wasn’t even sure what it would look like to stop wearing it. Even here, six feet under the earth with her demon-lover’s hands on her. But she wanted to try. “I was terrified you weren’t coming back,” she said as evenly as you could. “And it made me feel guilty for the nights I left without telling you. I’m sorry that I did that. I should’ve…talked to you.”

“Babe, we should’ve talked to each other. But it doesn’t matter now. We’re both done with running away, got it?” Lydia nodded. He kissed her and this time it was deeper. He parted her lips with his tongue and she let his groans of want fill her mouth and travel down her throat. He moved his hand from her chin to tangle in her hair and she wrapped hers under his arms and around his back, digging her nails in, eliciting another groan as he thrusted against her, knocking her back into the wall. “You’re _mine,_ Lydia,” he growled against her lips.

Lydia tilted her hips forward, relishing the intoxicating feeling of the friction of their bodies pressed together. “I know,” she whispered against his mouth.

He wanted to get drunk off those two words. He immediately scooped her up and carried her over to the bed, practically throwing her down on the mattress. She gasped as she hit the bed and then he was on her like a predator devouring its prey. He kissed her hungrily, biting her lip until he drew blood and lapping it up like fresh milk. “Say it again,” he said as he planted a kiss at the base of her throat. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Lydia closed her eyes and mewled as Beetlejuice pulled up her sweater so the low scoop neck of her dress was showing. He planted a kiss in the center of her chest, sending shivers throughout her entire body. “I’m yours,” she breathed.

He dragged his mouth back up to hers and then to her surprise, but she found not at all displeasure, he gently wrapped a hand around her throat. She opened her eyes to look at him. He was drowning in his hunger for her. To have her completely. “Beetlejuice,” she croaked, her blood-coated smile looked like a work of fine art and he growled louder and deeper as he kissed her again.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he said. He knew he was harping on this, but he’d waited so long for her to openly want him as badly and as intensely as he wanted her and Lydia was finally willing to admit to him, and to _herself._

“You,” she whispered into the damp night air. “I belong to you.”

At that, Beetlejuice knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled himself upright, resting on his knees, Lydia looked up at him in confusion. “What—” she started to say but he shushed her. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet planted flat on the floor and pointed in front of him. “C'mere,” he commanded. Lydia didn’t hesitate in obeying. She crawled across the tiny bed and then onto the floor to stand before him. He reached out and gently pulled her closer. She just gazed at him as he slowly dragged his eyes up and down her body. He then gently reached down, grazing her leg with his fingers and lifted her foot up to rest on his knee. She watched silently as he undid the laces of her boot and slid it off, tossing it aside. He then slowly pushed up her long dress until it rested above her knee. He leaned forward and kissed her thigh, she inhaled sharply and he smiled against her skin. He pulled away and began to slide her laced stocking down her leg. He repeated the process with her other leg, and when her feet were both firmly planted on the floor again, he stood up. He tugged at her sweater and she lifted her arms so that he could easily slide it off her. 

“Turn around,” he said. Lydia obeyed again and felt his cool hands on the back of her neck. She bit her lip as she felt him begin to undo the buttons of her dress at a painfully slow pace. When he had them all undone, and her back was exposed, he slid the dress off her shoulders and let it fall by her feet. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Look at me.” She took a shallow breath as she turned back around to face him. She was now standing before him in just her bra and underwear. She knew they’d seen each other naked before, but something felt different this time. This wasn’t about lust anymore, but something much deeper. Something so rare that most people never get to experience it in their life _or_ afterlife.

Beetlejuice trailed a hand across her collarbone and Lydia closed her eyes as she sighed from the sensation of his touch. “Ah, ah,” he said softly. Lydia opened her eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, babe.” His gaze was more intense than she’d ever seen it, but she was completely under his spell. She realized she would do anything he asked, willingly— _gladly._ Beetlejuice stepped closer to her and reached behind her back, unclasping the hooks of her bra. He peeled the straps away and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor along with her other clothes. He stepped back and just stared at her. Lydia began to feel like she was burning alive under his gaze. “What?” She said nervously. 

He stepped towards her again and quickly took her into his arms, eliciting another gasp from her. “You’re fucking stunning, babe, that’s what.” He slammed his lips against hers, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth, digging his nails into her back. Lydia moaned as he thrust against her. Without thinking she reached out and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. She felt feverish with want as she dragged the piece of clothing off his body, adding it to the growing pile on the floor. She pulled her mouth away from his and kissed his chin, and then the side of his neck, and then daringly, the welt across his throat. The act produced a gasp from him unlike any sound she’d been able to pull from him before. She couldn’t help but smile as she pulled back and met his gaze. She dragged her hands down his chest until they reached his belt. She began to unfasten the buckle until she could pull it free. “Beetlejuice,” she said softly.

“Hmm?” He leaned into her touch as she pushed his pants down and he stepped out of them. 

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

He pulled her close and kissed her again as he hooked a finger around the waistband of her underwear. He fell back to sit on the bed, pulling her towards him by his hold on the fabric. He held her gaze as he dragged them down her legs and held her steady as she stepped out of them. He shifted forward and kissed her stomach, and then began to kiss her lower and lower, until he’d sunk forward onto his knees and had his mouth all over her and his tongue inside her. She moaned loudly, there was no one but the neighboring dead to hear them this time, and Beetlejuice relished the noises she made. In one swift motion he swung her over his shoulder and placed her back down on the bed, climbing on top of her. She was red in the face and breathing heavily. He leaned over her and for a few moments the two remained perfectly still. “Beetlejuice,” she whispered again.

“Yes?” He breathed, leaning in even closer to her.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

She dug her nails into his back again and he groaned. “You can have me.”

“Lydia,” the demon said, his voice nothing more than a primal growl. “Are you sure?” He had always suspected Lydia was a virgin, and while he had become adept at forgetting the night he’d lost _his_ virginity, the months spent with Lydia—bringing centuries of repressed emotions back to the surface—had brought the memory all too close to the surface. He adored this girl, the last thing he wanted was for her to look back at this moment with sadness or regret.

Lydia could see the conflict in his eyes. She reached up a hand to place against his cheek. He leaned into the feel of her soft skin against his. “Yes, I’m sure.” Lydia _was_ a virgin. But she wasn’t shy when it came to sex, and she was slowly learning to be confident in herself and her own feelings. Though she hadn’t admitted it out loud to him, she adored him too. She was engaged to him, she was going to be his _wife._ She had chosen him as a partner and she wanted them to be together in every way. She wanted _him._ All of him.

Beetlejuice’s eyes lit up at her words. “Okay, doll” he said, he leaned in close to her and began to shift himself into place between her legs. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Tell me if it hurts, babe. Tell me…if you want to stop.” Lydia nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. The ghost scooped one arm underneath her, pulling her body as close his own as he possibly could and thrust forward, sliding into her. Lydia practically screamed as he did and he softly cursed under his breath from how wonderful she felt. The two began to move together, Lydia naturally moved her hips against his. It hurt at first but slowly shifted to the most intense pleasurable pressure she’d ever felt in her life. She leaned her head back and groaned as Beetlejuice began to push deeper and deeper inside of her. 

The demon placed his mouth next to her ear and kissed her there, dragging his tongue up and down her neck. She shivered and bucked her hips against him. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

“I know,” she breathed as he continued to move in and out of her at a torturously slow pace. She kept tilting her hips up but every time she did he pushed her back down. “You’re teasing me,” she said between desperate gasps.

He chuckled as he moved to plant kisses on the other side of her neck. “Maybe I am.”

“Why?” She said, desperately clinging to him, it felt so good but she wanted so much more.

He shifted to look at her again, his wicked smile had returned, sending sparks throughout her. “Because I can.” He kissed her and murmured against her mouth. “You belong to me.”

“I know,” she said, lightheaded and euphoric. “But…”

“But what, babe?” He said, his voice intoxicatingly taunting.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Ya begging me, Lydia?”

She opened her eyes and saw that he was smirking. “I hate you,” she said around a smile.

He laughed again and began to thrust into her harder and harder until the wave of peak pleasure crashed over both of them in perfect harmony. They sank down deep and drowned in each other’s embrace. “I adore you, Lydia Deetz,” he murmured against her mouth as they finished. She held onto him as tightly as she could. “Lydia,” he said again. 

“What?”

He shifted off of her to lay beside her. She turned to face him and he reached out to stroke his knuckles along her cheek. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

He took one of her hands in his and gently brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

“ _Promise.”_

“I promise,” she shifted forward to kiss him again. 

He wrapped her up in his arms and the two began to drift off into sleep. Neither one bothering to remember that time was passing differently down below than it was above. They were so high off each other that the rest of the world had melted away. 

Beetlejuice pulled Lydia closer to him and whispered in her ear. “I love you.”

She sighed happily, relaxing completely in his embrace. “I know.”  



	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because she did trust him. After everything they’d shared and said to each other over the past few months since they’d met, she realized she trusted this ghost more than anyone in the world. This was her fiancee. This was her person. He was going to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is short but a longer one is coming on Friday! Hope yall enjoy :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Beetlejuice woke up to Lydia standing before him, fully clothed, shaking him lightly by the shoulder. “Beetlejuice,” she said quietly.

The demon rolled over and opened his eyes, taking her in, a little disappointed that she was already dressed. “What is it, babe?”

“We have a problem.”

He sat up and reached out for her hand, she let him take it. “What’s wrong?”

“I think we’ve been here for hours.”

“Oh,” he said, realizing how stupid he’d been, _again._

“Dad and Delia are going to be so worried,” she said, feeling guilt rack her body. “I’ve already punished them enough. I can’t be missing for _days.”_

He reached out and took ahold of her other hand, pulling her closer. “Shh, I know, I know. There’s a way we can fix this it’s just gonna be a bit tricky.”

Lydia fought back tears of anxiety as she nodded her head. Beetlejuice jumped out of bed and began pulling on the pieces of his signature striped suit. When he too was fully dressed he tucked Lydia’s copy of _Jane Eyre_ into the inside pocket of his coat and took her hand in his. They walked back over to the door of his coffin and opened it into the black abyss. Lydia tilted her gaze up to see her mirror high above them, a window back into the world of the living. Who knew how much time would have passed by the time they climbed back through.

Beetlejuice grabbed ahold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Okay, dollface, listen up. We’re going to walk that way,” he nodded before them. Lydia looked into the abyss and then back at him, obvious fear in her eyes. “It’s okay,” he said, trying to calm her. “I won’t let you go. We’re going to find a wormhole.”

“ _A what?”_ Lydia asked incredulously.

Beetlejuice sighed. “We get it, babe; we both keep shocking each other. Yes, a wormhole. They’re time portals. We’re going to find one to take us back to a few minutes after you climbed through the mirror.”

“But,” she said, looking back into the abyss, “how will we be able to tell?” 

“Lydia,” he said, hooking a finger under her chin and turning her head back to look at him, “please trust me, okay? I _promise_ you I won’t let you go. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Lydia’s stomach was still knotted with fear but she nodded anyway. Because she _did_ trust him. After everything they’d shared and said to each other over the past few months since they’d met, she realized she trusted this ghost more than anyone in the world. This was her fiancee. This was her person. He was going to protect her.

Beetlejuice gave her a relieved smile, and led them into the abyss.

As they walked on Lydia tried to swallow her fear but they were engulfed by infinite nothingness. They were walking on nothing, looking at nothing, surrounded by nothing. She glanced behind her at one point to see the door to Beetlejuice’s coffin shrinking in the distance. It gave her some sense of stability to look at it. A fixed point. But eventually they were far enough into the blackness that it was gone. Beetlejuice felt her hands begin to shake and saw a flush start to spread across her cheeks. She was having an anxiety attack. He let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close. She instinctively wrapped her arms around him. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said gently. “I promise.”

Lydia nodded against the fabric of his shirt. “I know,” she whispered. After more walking in painful silence, Lydia said: “Where are we?”

“The Inbetween.”

Lydia gathered that mean inbetween the living world and The Netherworld. 

“Do all coffins lead here?” She asked. “Like, do _all_ the bodies in the cemetery have people… _existing_ in them?”

“No, babe,” Beetlejuice said. “Only demons.”

“Why?”

“Caseworkers don’t like us hanging around The Netherworld too much, think we’re a bad influence over the regular ghosts.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Well,” Lydia said, “are you?”

The ghoul laughed. “Yes.”

His blunt answer made Lydia laugh as well, and she relaxed a bit in his arms. They continued to walk on until Lydia started to notice patches in the blackness that seemed to be moving like water; the way her mirror had. She figured those were the wormholes. 

“How will we know which one is the right one?” She asked.

Beetlejuice ground his teeth together, he was usually pretty good at sensing where wormholes lead, but he hadn’t travelled via them in decades, there hadn’t been any reason to. 

“Don’t worry, babe” he said, trying to keep calm. “We’ll find the right one.” Beetlejuice slowed their pace as he evaluated the various portals all around them, trying to sense out which one had an energy similar to that of the Deetz’s house. There were three that felt far too alike, and he did his best not to grimace. _We have to try,_ he thought to himself. He unwrapped his arms from Lydia and took her hands in his. “Listen to me,” Lydia stared at him intently, “do _not_ let go of my hand, okay?”

Lydia nodded meekly. “And you won’t let go of me?” 

He pulled her towards him and kissed her fiercely. “Never.”

The two turned to face the swirling blackness before them, and Beetlejuice lead them into the watery void. Lydia immediately felt like she’d been sucked up into a tornado. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She held on so tight to Beetlejuice’s hand that her knuckles hurt, he held on just as firmly to her. She felt like they were being pummeled to death. She could barely breathe. She tried to scream Beetlejuice’s name, but still she couldn’t make the words come out. After what seemed like an eternity, the two came tumbling out of thin air, landing in a pile of sand. 

Beetlejuice immediately knew where they were, and was horrified at his mistake in choosing portals. He scrambled to his feet and pulled Lydia up with him. She took in their surroundings, an endless sandy desert. Her eyes looked back at him, frantic. “This doesn’t look like my house, Beetlejuice.”

He nodded. “That’s because it isn’t.”

“You picked the wrong wormhole?”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He pulled her in close.

“Where are we then?”

“Saturn.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay,” she said. “We can go back through the bathroom mirror, but how do we find it?”
> 
> “We don’t find it,” he said. “You find it.”
> 
> “Excuse me?”
> 
> “You’re the one who did the research and figured out how to use your mirror to get to my door, now you’re going to use the same magic to get us to your bathroom mirror.”
> 
> “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, her annoyance returning. “There isn’t anywhere to google things around here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but longer ones are coming next week! New chapter on Monday, have a great weekend everyone! Thanks as always for the comments & the kudos!

Chapter Twenty-Two

“ _Saturn?”_

“Shh,” Beetlejuice said. “We need to be quiet or they’ll hear us. Now come on,” he started her dragging her away from the portal. “We have to find a portal back.”

“Why can’t we just take the one we came through? And _who_ will hear us?”

He tugged on her arm to keep her close by, and not let her lag behind him. “Wormholes never lead the same way back as they do forward. And the…sandworms will hear us.”

Without thinking, Lydia stopped walking, jerking Beetlejuice backwards. He frantically turned around to try and pull her along. “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice feigning calm, but Beetlejuice knew her well enough to see the anger dripping behind her words. “The _sandworms_ will hear us?”

“Yes, doll. I’m sorry, okay? I know I keep fucking up lately, but I _will_ make it up to you, okay? I’m going to get you home safe. But we _cannot_ let a sandworm find us.”

“Because…”

“They eat ghosts.” _Well shit,_ Lydia thought to herself. Beetlejuice nodded, reading her mind by the look on her face. “Come on, Lydia.” He said as gently as he could. He held out his hand to her again and she took it. 

The two started walking along through the desert at a quick pace, and to Beetlejuice’s relief, he saw a portal up ahead and it thrummed with Lydia’s energy. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure it lead to her bedroom, but it lead away from here and that would have to be good enough for now. The two were several yards away from the portal when they felt a rumbling beneath their feet. Lydia looked at Beetlejuice, her face coated with terror.

“ _Run,”_ he hissed.

The two took off across the sand towards the wormhole. The ground began to shake violently beneath them. They were almost to the portal and Beetlejuice swore under his breath. _If I die, so be it,_ he thought to himself. _But dear gods, don’t let it get her._ Lydia _had_ to live. He didn’t watch her come this far only to see her die a horrible death. 

They were just a few feet away from the wormhole when the sandworm broke free from the ground beneath them, knocking Lydia down. Beetlejuice lunged for her, picking her up in his arms, and practically tossed her into the portal. She called out for him. He jumped in after her, the sandworm’s teeth gnashing at his ankles as he did. 

As they tumbled through the swirling darkness of the wormhole, Lydia screamed his name, flailing her arm out for his hand. He couldn’t see her, but he could sense her. “Lydia!” He screamed. “Say my name!”

“Beetlejuice!” 

He felt the chord that kept them tied together by the power of his name on her tongue. He found her hand in the darkness and wove his fingers through hers, pulling her against him. He held onto her, his body racked with guilt and fear. Lydia cried silently against his shirt as the two continued to spin throughout the abyss until them came tumbling down, out of the air, onto hard pavement. 

Lydia hissed from the pain. She made it onto her knees and looked around. She knew where they were, and it wasn’t her bedroom. “Beetlejuice,” she said.

He pulled himself upright from where he’d sprawled out on his back and registered where they were. A familiar alley—in _The Netherworld_. He couldn’t sense any portals, and neither of them had chalk. He looked at her and felt sick seeing the unease in her eyes.

“This isn’t good, is it?”

The demon shook his head. “No, babe, it’s not.”

“How do we get home?” Beetlejuice hated that he didn’t have an immediate answer to that. Well, he _did,_ it just wasn’t a good one. They needed chalk and there were only two places to get it from in The Netherworld: Caseworkers’ offices, or dealers. There was no way in hell he was risking Lydia’s life by taking her anywhere near one of those soul-sucking offices, but taking her near a dealer was also a risk. It was the lesser of two evils though, and he knew he had no choice. He got to his feet and helped Lydia up. “We’re gonna find someone who can give us some chalk. Then we’re gonna draw a door, and go home.”

“But,” she said, “if we use a door instead of a wormhole, won’t time have passed? We were trying to go back in time. Or…back in living world time. If we use a door, days or weeks could’ve passed by now.”

_Shit,_ he thought. She was right. He racked his brain for ideas, not wanting to have to resign them to using chalk and letting who knows how much time have passed. Then, it hit him. 

“Lydia,” he said, somewhat excitedly. “I’ve got it! Mirror magic.”

“Okay,” Lydia said uncertainly. “How do we use it to get back sooner?”

“We use a different mirror.”

“What?”

He held her by her shoulders and leaned his head down a bit so they were at eye level with each other. “Your vanity mirror lead you through one thread of time, but if we come back through a different mirror, it will be like no time has passed at all.”

Lydia stepped away from him, crossing her arms. She was pissed. “And why didn’t you think of this before you sent us hurtling through space and almost got us eaten by a sandworm?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Because…I’m not as smart as you?” He was trying desperately to bring levity to this situation.

Lydia’s anger didn’t completely dissipate but she rolled her eyes, which—right now—he would take as a small win. “Okay,” she said. “We can go back through the bathroom mirror, but how do we find it?” 

“We don’t find it,” he said. “ _You_ find it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who did the research and figured out how to use your mirror to get to my door, now you’re going to use the same magic to get us to your bathroom mirror.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, her annoyance returning. “There isn’t anywhere to _google_ things around here.” Beetlejuice sighed. She had every reason to be mad, but he didn’t want them to waste time arguing. “And why don’t _you_ know how to use the mirror magic?”

“Because, Lydia, I’ve _never_ used it before. I just use mirrors as portals. I can make any mirror lead anywhere, just not back in time.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

He groaned. “Demons can use mirrors to get from their graves to the living world. But we use chalk like everyone else to get to The Netherworld. The only way we demons can travel to different points in time is through the wormholes. But _you,_ Lydia Deetz, found an old spell. You used a mirror to get to my door. You did something no one but demons and ghosts have done in a long time.”

“What I did was…magic?”

It took him a second to realize she was serious. He couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “Of course it was magic, babe. What else?”

“I…I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about that, I was just thinking about you. Now you’re telling me that on top of all this ridiculousness I also have magic powers?”

“Why is that so shocking?” He asked. “You can see the dead when no one else can.”

Lydia’s arms dropped down by her side, that was true. She had never put much thought into that either, it just… _was._ “So,” she said slowly, her brain still trying to process everything he was telling her. “This means we have to get back to your coffin, right? Because that’s where the mirror that lead me to you was, so the mirror back will be there.”

Beetlejuice’s shoulders slumped a bit realizing she was right. 

“And to get back to your coffin…” 

“We need chalk,” he finished for her.

Lydia sighed. “How do we get chalk?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

Lydia huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Beetlejuice, I don’t like _any_ of this. But I want us to go home.”

Beetlejuice felt a slight warmth spread throughout him at the way she didn’t say that _she_ wanted them to go home, but that she wanted both of them to go home. He wondered if she finally saw ‘home’ as them being together. He’d certainly seen her as his home for awhile now. 

“Caseworkers and dealers have chalk, but Caseworkers have rules against the living walking around down here. If we go there…they’ll…”

“Rip out my soul?” Lydia asked, raising an eyebrow, remembering what he’d said to her the last time they were in this alley. 

Beetlejuice nodded solemnly. “But the dealers are just as dangerous. If they see that you’re alive—”

“You said I’m _obviously_ alive.”

He nodded. “You are. You can’t see it but you have a glow that the rest of us don’t. The dealers will try to use you to bargain for the chalk.”

“So don’t let them,” she said firmly. 

Beetlejuice was somewhat taken aback by her confidence in him. It gave him some pride to see how much blind faith she had in him. Months ago she barely trusted him at all, but now she was willing to follow him into the abyss, into the arms of danger. He realized he fell in love with her more everyday. He closed out the space between them and wrapped her up in his arms. “I won’t.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well I’ll be damned,” he said. “Big Beetle’s getting married. And to a breather, no less.” Lydia noticed Beetlejuice stiffen at the word breather. “So, why’d you bring your lovely, living, lady to my neck of the woods.”
> 
> “We need some chalk.”
> 
> The tall man put his cigarette back in his mouth and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke in their faces. “How’d you get here without it?”
> 
> “Wormhole,” Lydia cut in. Beetlejuice tensed beside her and she wondered if maybe she was supposed to let him do all the talking. He hadn’t said anything about it before they came in though and Lydia didn’t want this man to think she was some scared little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! 
> 
> I know the chapters have been short lately, but DON'T WORRY longer ones are coming. Thank you all for sticking with this tale of mine :)
> 
> On another note, I know for those of us in America, things are horrifying right now. I hope you're all doing as much as you can to take care of each other, advocate and fight for each other, and stay safe. I'm with you. I see you and I support you. Black Lives Matter. I hope this silly story about a ghost and a goth falling love can bring some comfort or joy to your day.
> 
> *more notes at the end of the chapter*

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Is there a small part of you that thinks that maybe this is a terrible idea?” Lydia asked as the two stood outside a small unlit house nestled on the side of a dimly lit backstreet in The Netherworld. 

Beetlejuice turned to look at his fiancee, she turned to meet his gaze. “Dollface, there is a _big_ part of me that thinks this is a terrible idea, but we don’t have any other choice.”  
Lydia nodded and turned back to face the house. “So am I coming in with you or do you want me to hide in a bush or something?”

She was kidding but was still relieved when Beetlejuice squeezed her hand and said: “Hell no, babe. You’re not leaving my side.”

She sighed in relief. The two walked up to the house hand-in-hand. Beetlejuice rapped lightly on the door and waited a few painfully long moments before he heard a gruff voice from the other side. “Who is it?”

“Beetlejuice.”

They heard the voice curse lowly and then the door creaked open a tiny bit. “Hurry up,” the voice said.

Beetlejuice dragged Lydia inside and closed the door behind them. The two were standing in a stuffy living room littered with empty beer bottles and cigarette butts. Lydia wasn’t surprised that dealers lived the same way in the afterlife as they did when they were alive. If there was no heaven or hell then what incentive was there to not act like a loser?

The owner of the voice was a tall, middle-aged man who looked like a walking nightmare. He was wearing dirty jeans, and a white undershirt. He had a cigarette stuck between his teeth and dirt under every fingernail. He took in the sight of Lydia, and her glowing life light, and his entire expression changed from annoyed to shocked.

“And who the hell are you?” He asked, not cruelly but in wonder. But Lydia still didn’t like the way he was looking at her. It didn’t take a genius to know his intentions weren’t innocent.

“I’m Lydia,” she said as calmly as she could. 

Beetlejuice squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her, and help her stay calm; it was the only way they were going to get through this. “She’s my fiancee.”

The tall man hesitated a moment, waiting for Beetlejuice to laugh and say it was a joke. When he didn’t, the tall man laughed, taking his cigarette from between his teeth and flicking ash on the carpet. “Well I’ll be damned,” he said. “Big Beetle’s getting married. And to a breather, no less.” Lydia noticed Beetlejuice stiffen at the word _breather._ “So, why’d you bring your lovely, _living,_ lady to my neck of the woods.”

“We need some chalk.”

The tall man put his cigarette back in his mouth and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke in their faces. “How’d you get here without it?”

“Wormhole,” Lydia cut in. Beetlejuice tensed beside her and she wondered if maybe she was supposed to let him do all the talking. He hadn’t said anything about it before they came in though and Lydia didn’t want this man to think she was some scared little girl. 

The man laughed. “That so?” Lydia nodded. “Where ya trying to get to, sweetheart?”

Lydia did her best not to cringe at the use of _sweetheart,_ it felt vulgar coming from this man’s mouth. “Home,” she said as apathetically as possible. 

The man nodded. “Alright. I can get y'all some chalk. But I want something in return.”

Beetlejuice’s grip on Lydia’s hand became so tight it hurt but she didn’t pull away. “What do ya want, Dante?”

_Dante?_ Lydia thought to herself. _Of course that’s his name._ She glanced at Beetlejuice but the ghoul was staring down Dante, silently daring the dealer to cross him. Dante nonchalantly walked over to a filthy looking sofa across the room, knocked some beer bottles out of the way and sat down. “A romp with your little living girl would be nice.”

“No thank you,” Lydia said before Beetlejuice could jump in. 

The demon was amazed by how calm and collected Lydia was being. _That’s my girl,_ he thought. 

Dante laughed. “No?”

Lydia gave a fake smile, acting innocent and demure. “Unfortunately I only sleep with demons.”

Beetlejuice couldn’t believe she’d just said that. He wanted to look at her incredulously, but he realized she was playing at something, and he knew she was braver than anyone gave her credit for. If she could trust him, even when he kept fucking up, then he needed to trust her.

“That so?” Dante said, laughing, and inhaling from his cigarette again. “Too good for ghosts?”

Lydia’s mocking smile remained plastered across her face. “Just a little too vanilla for me.”

_Jesus fucking christ,_ Beetlejuice thought. 

“Oh, I see,” said Dante. He put out his cigarette on the arm of the couch and flicked the butt on the floor to join the rest. He got up and walked over to the couple, and before either one could react he had his hand in Lydia’s hair, yanking on it so she had to tilt her head back to meet her gaze. “I ain’t vanilla when I fuck, sweetheart.”

“Let go of her,” Beetlejuice growled, pulling Lydia away, but Dante had a firm hold on her. Lydia kept her hand in Beetlejuice’s while refusing to break eye contact with Dante.

“I doubt you’re better than Beetlejuice,” she said, her voice dripping with venomous honey. Beetlejuice was losing his mind at every bold turn of phrase she spoke. 

Dante smirked. “He’s that good, huh?”

Lydia nodded, _still_ smiling. “But maybe when I die I’ll pay you a visit. Time moves slower here so you probably won’t have to wait that long.”

_Babe, what are you doing?_ Beetlejuice was beginning to panic. Logically he knew she didn’t mean a word she was saying, she was just trying to get the chalk, but that didn’t stop his anger from igniting a fire inside him at the idea of anyone else touching _his_ Lydia.

“Hmm,” Dante said, mulling it over. “You do strike me as the suicidal type.”

_Oh fuck no,_ the demon thought. He finally intervened, yanking Lydia away from Dante’s grip, some of her hair ripping off in the dealer’s hands. “You don’t talk to her like that,” he snarled.

Dante held his hands up in a joking surrender. “Cool it, B-man. I’m only kidding. But fuck me if it hasn’t been too damn long since I had my hands on a breather.” Dante looked past Beetlejuice to Lydia who was now hidden behind Beetlejuice. “Just one kiss, sweetheart, and the chalk’s all yours. Then when you’re dead, I’ll show you a real good time.”

Beetlejuice lunged forward. He shot a fireball from his hand, knocking Dante square in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards and crashing to the floor. Dante propped himself up on his elbows, seething. Beetlejuice stormed over to the ghost, towering above him. “Give us the _fucking_ chalk,” Beetlejuice hissed.

Dante shook his head. “God damn demons,” he muttered, fishing into his pocket. “Was only trying to have some fun.” He produced a piece of chalk and tossed it at Beetlejuice’s feet. 

Beetlejuice snatched it up and pocketed it. He turned around and wrapped his arm around Lydia’s shoulder, hurrying her out of the house.

“See ya soon, sweetheart!” Dante called after her.

When they were outside and far enough away from the house, Lydia’s knees gave out from all the anxiety she’d been fighting to tamp down and she went crashing to the pavement. Beetlejuice rushed to catch her and sunk down beside her. She wasn’t crying, she was taking quick shallow breaths. She was having a panic attack. “I’m sorry,” she gasped.

Beetlejuice pulled her close and she buried her face in his chest. “Don’t you dare be sorry,” he said, using one hand to wrap around her back and hold her firmly in place while he used the other to smooth down her hair. “It’s my fault babe. I should’ve skipped trying to negotiate with that piece of shit and pulled out all the stops. I was stupid and didn’t want to draw attention to us. Didn’t want him going and telling anybody.” He kissed the top of her head. “But you were a badass.”

Lydia gripped his shirt in her fists and kept her head against his chest until her breathing finally returned to normal. After awhile she pulled back and looked at him. “I meant it,” she said “I only sleep with demons.”

Beetlejuice hugged her. “I fucking adore you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him just as tightly. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *it hasn't been made clear in this story yet but it WILL be made clear eventually that Beetlejuice & Lydia are both bisexual* have a WONDERFUL PRIDE MONTH all my lovely readers!!!
> 
> xoxo you're fav problematic bisexual beetlebabe<3


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What spell did you say to get here?” He asked. It still felt odd to Lydia to hear him refer to the words she found on the internet as a spell but she repeated them to him nonetheless. He nodded. “So make one up to find the other mirror.”
> 
> “What do you mean make one up?”
> 
> “Dollface, all spells are made up by somebody.”
> 
> “Not by me! I’m not a witch or whatever.”
> 
> “Says who?”
> 
> “Says me!”
> 
> “Sure, you just see dead people and travel through mirrors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying as safe as they can during this scary time. Thank you as always for supporting this story <3

Chapter Twenty-Four

The ghoul and the goth slinked through the shadows of The Netherworld until they found their way back to _their_ alley. Beetlejuice checked to make sure no one was watching, then he drew a door and walked through, pulling Lydia in behind him. 

The door vanished behind them and they were back in his coffin. Lydia sighed in relief. She never expected she’d be so happy to be buried alive. She looked over at Beetlejuice, who she could also tell was relieved they were back. He caught her gaze. “Ready, babe?” She nodded and the two left his coffin yet again to stand in the abyss outside his door. Lydia’s vanity mirror overhead, floating in the inky nothingness above.

“How do we find my bathroom mirror?” She asked, her head tilted back to look up at the only way out.

“You have to find it,” Beetlejuice said.

Lydia dropped her gaze back down to look at him, thinking he must be kidding. What he’d said earlier about her using magic to find him still hadn’t fully sunk in. _He_ was the demon with godly powers, she was just herself and she didn’t see how that could be anything extraordinary enough to locate a portal back in time. 

“How?” She asked.

“You said you researched this,” he said. 

Lydia nodded. “But I researched how to find _you_ not how to get back. I just… _assumed_ you’d know how to.”

Beetlejuice felt another wave of guilt crash over him. They should’ve gone back as soon as she found him. They shouldn’t have spent hours asleep in his bed. If they’d gone back right away they wouldn’t be in this mess. They could’ve just climbed back through her mirror and maybe an hour or two would’ve gone by in the living world—at _most_. 

“What spell did you say to get here?” He asked. It still felt odd to Lydia to hear him refer to the words she found on the internet as a _spell_ but she repeated them to him nonetheless. He nodded. “So make one up to find the other mirror.”

“What do you mean _make one up?”_

“Dollface, all spells are made up by somebody.”

“Not by me! I’m not a witch or whatever.”

“Says who?”

“Says me!”

“Sure, you just see dead people and travel through mirrors.”

“That’s different,” she said, frantically trying to make sense of everything.

“How is that different?” He asked. “Ya think Charles and Delia can just climb through mirrors?”

“But…I just _repeated_ the incantation.”

“Babe, you really think those words work for just anybody? The only living people who’ve ever found their way to my door are ones with magic.” Lydia fell silent. Out of all the impossible things that had happened since moving into the haunted house, this was the most outlandish. Her? _A witch?_ She shook her head. “Babe,” Beetlejuice said, “we can go over your existential crisis about this later, but right now we need to find the mirror.”

“How did that mirror get there, then?” She asked, pointing up.

“I climbed through it on your side. But I can’t conjure one over on this side.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

Beetlejuice sighed and took her face in his hands like he always did when trying to help bring her anxiety levels down. “Darling, nothing about the afterlife makes any damn sense, okay? All I know is you got here, and the only way you could’ve done that is with magic. You’re smart. Think back to your research and come up with a spell to find your other mirror. You _can_ do this.”

Lydia felt her anxiety waver a bit. His confidence in her always took her by surprise. Her whole life people had simply told her how immature, or overly-emotional she was. She never really felt like she had control over anything, and here was an all-powerful, other-worldly demon telling her he trusted her to take control of conjuring them up a way to cross from the world of the dead to the world of the living. She took a deep breath and nodded. Beetlejuice smiled, and dropped his hands from her face. “That’s my girl,” he said.

Lydia smiled weakly. “Okay,” she said, still nervous. “Give me a minute to think.”

Beetlejuice nodded and let his fiancee stand silently, racking her brain, going over everything she remembered reading back in her room. She latched onto the idea of the number two. Harmony. They needed to work together to go through the _second_ mirror. She made a mental note of that and searched her memory for other elements that could help. She remembered how important Greek mythology had been in finding Beetlejuice. Did any Greek gods have anything to do with mirrors? _Yes!_ She realized. _Narcissus, another Greek hunter._ She tried to remain calm. _Two and Narcissus,_ she thought to herself, _I need more than that._ She quickly glanced over at Beetlejuice, she’d come through the mirror looking for him, and she was going to go back through a mirror with him by her side. From the world below, to the world above.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I think…I think I’ve got it. But…”

“But what?” He asked.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Lydia, I’m not going to make fun of you.”

Lydia eyed him suspiciously but still held out her hand to him. He stepped closer to her and wove his fingers through hers. Lydia closed her eyes and took another deep breath, facing forward toward the abyss before them. She tried to relax her mind and let the words come to her naturally.

“With the two ways across the glass and all the beauty from the Hunter’s gaze, let the demon and the girl pass through in harmony to escape this endless maze. Let the hands of time turn back so those behind don’t know. As above, so below.”

Beetlejuice watched her with intense amazement. He could _feel_ that magic radiating off of her. Lydia opened her eyes and gasped. Another mirror was in front of them, floating in the air. She could see her bathroom on the other side. She laughed in disbelief as she turned to look at Beetlejuice beside her, who was smiling just as exuberantly. He pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Knew you could do it, babe. Now come on.”  He lead her to the mirror and helped give her a leg up so she could climb through. She pushed through the water-like surface and came tumbling out on her bathroom sink, crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Beetlejuice followed suit, practically falling on top of her. The two of them just lay there sprawled out on the bathroom floor for a moment, until a wave of laughter overtook them. The relief and disbelief at what they’d accomplished felt like a wave of euphoria. As they drowned in their laughter, they heard Barbara open Lydia’s door.

“Lydia?” She called out. “Are you okay?”

Lydia and Beetlejuice looked at each other, grins still plastered across their faces. “Shhh,” Lydia said but it only made them laugh harder. Barbara made her way over to the bathroom door, and whatever she expected to find, it was not the ghoul and the goth sprawled out on the bathroom tile, laughing hysterically. She just looked at them, dumbfounded. Beetlejuice was back. And Lydia seemed genuinely happy. Barbara was still struggling to come to terms with the affect the demon had on Lydia, but seeing the two of them like this was confirmation that the two were better together than apart. 

“Oh, hey, Babs,” Beetlejuice said before falling into another pit of laughter.

Barbara was, still, somewhat in a state of disbelief. Beetlejuice had never really come across to her as anything other than arrogant and intimidating. Yet here he was, rolling around on the floor with Lydia, laughing like a couple of kids in the back of a classroom, trying not to get caught gossiping about the teacher.

“Do I even want to know?” She asked.

Lydia bit her lip, trying to swallow her laughter, but it betrayed her, spilling out her mouth and into Barbara’s ears. “Sorry, Barbara,” she said around laughter-coated gasps. “It’s a long story.”

Barbara couldn’t help it, she smiled. “Okay,” she said, shaking her head. She was relieved that he was back, if solely for the sake of making Lydia happy. She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

The two waited until they heard Lydia’s bedroom door click into place. “Well,” Lydia said, her laughter having finally died down, “it doesn’t seem like any time has passed.”

Beetlejuice gave her one of his Jack-O-Lantern grins that she loved and reached out for her, dragging her across the floor to his side and smashing his mouth against hers. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t just mean the ring,” she said. “I mean all of it. Everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it.”
> 
> Beetlejuice felt a ten year long weight begin to lift from his shoulders. He reached out and took her hands lightly in his. “I didn’t either.”
> 
> Lydia shook her head. “You did,” she said. “You would’ve done exactly what you promised to do if things hadn't...changed. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this story :) 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing the best they can right now to stay safe & supportive of one another. I'm doing what I can to support the BLM movement. Seeing as it's Pride month, and I am PROUD member of the LGBTQ+ community, I've donated to the Freedom Fund where every $ goes to helping an LGBTQ+ person receive bail. Queer Americans, especially black trans women are suffering GREATLY right now, and we owe it to them as fellow Americans, and as fellow human beings, to do everything within our means to help. If you have the resources to donate, you can do so by using the link below, if you don't have the means to donate please share the link around. Pride started as riots, Beetlejuice is an inherently queer narrative, and I, the author of this fiction, am a queer woman. Let's do what we can during this horrific time in American history to help each other <3
> 
> I appreciate and love you all, and am so incredibly grateful for the positivity you've shown this story. Stay strong my lovely beetlebabes <3 <3 <3
> 
> DONATE TO THE FREEDOM FUND: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/rikers-covid

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Come sit down,” Barbara said. 

Lydia was anxious to get upstairs, back to Beetlejuice. But she’d spent the whole evening with him at the cemetery and Barbara hadn’t seen her in a decade. She figured the ghoul could wait a few minutes. Lydia brewed herself a cup of a coffee, she offered some to Barbara, but even though the Maitlands were just as corporeal as Beetlejuice, they rarely ate or drank. The two sat down in the living room and an awkward silence hung between them.

“We didn’t leave things very well,” Lydia said.

Barbara nodded.

“I figured as much. The day you left for school, Beetlejuice left as well and we didn’t see him again for months. We also saw…”

“What?” Lydia asked.

Barbara gave her a sad smile. “We saw that you left your engagement ring behind.”

Lydia’s heart sank. She remembered the morning she snuck away to Philadelphia. She’d spun the ring around on her hand and finally relented to slipping it off and leaving it on her desk. She’d regretted the decision, but she didn’t dare go back and get it, she knew the Maitlands had no way to give it to her, and her dad and Delia had no idea about her and Beetlejuice. She could lie about where the ring came from, but they would’ve just told her to come home and get it. In that moment she desperately wanted to put it back on. 

“We had a fight,” Lydia said. Barbara nodded and waited for her to continue. “Things…” she took a shaky breath. “Things got bad the night before I left. They had already been going down hill, but they escalated and I—” she inhaled sharply, fighting back the urge to cry, “I was afraid they’d never be the same again.”

Barbara reached out to put her hand on Lydia’s knee, but Lydia instinctively shifted away. She’d had trouble with physical touch since her freshman year. Meaningless sex with strangers was easy, any kind of intimate, meaningful touch was not. Earlier in the cemetery with Beetlejuice was the first time in years that she’d let anyone touch her that way.

Barbara didn’t understand why Lydia shifted away, but she could tell there was so much Lydia wasn’t telling her. She didn’t push the issue though. She’d learned quickly that when Lydia decided she was going to keep things to herself that there was no getting at them. Her walls were made of steel.

“He said…” Lydia had let her eyes drop down to her now room-temperature cup of coffee. She was too terrified to meet Barbara’s gaze. “Barbara, he said he loved me.”

Barbara was silent for a moment. She knew Beetlejuice cared deeply about Lydia. She knew he adored her. But love was something much bigger. Something she hadn’t even been aware demons could feel, and as devious as Beetlejuice was, she thought he’d never lie to Lydia. 

“Do you love him back?”

Lydia looked back up at Barbara. “I don’t think I know what love is.”

“That’s not true,” Barbara said. “You love your mother. And they may not always get it but you love your father and Delia. You love me and Adam, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded. “But that’s not the same thing as being in love.”

Barbara nodded. “That’s true. But tell me, did you ever feel for anyone else they way you feel about him?”

Lydia closed her eyes, fighting back a crying spell. She hated how she’d only been home for less than an hour and already felt like the emotional mess she’d been ten years ago. She scrambled to build back up her fortress to keep out emotions. She was desperate for her apathetic facade. Her angry demeanor. But it had been completely shattered by her reunion with the demon. The rain had washed it all away. She felt tears escape and tried to blink them away. She took another shaky breath and shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Not even close.”

* * *

Just when Beetlejuice was ready to go downstairs and drag Lydia away from Barbara, the door to her bedroom opened. Lydia stood in the doorway, still in her rain-soaked dress, her eyeliner dripping down her face. He realized it wasn’t because of the rain. She’d been crying. He sat up from where he’d been laying down on her bed, thumbing through one of her old copies of _Frankenstein._ He swung his legs over the side of the bed as Lydia slowly closed the door behind her.

“Babe,” he said cautiously. The two were still testing the waters with one another. 

Lydia turned back to look at him. Her eyes then flicked to her desk where she’d left her spider ring all those years ago. It wasn’t there. She knew it was possible that Dad or Delia might’ve moved it, but she also knew with 100% certainty that wasn’t what had happened. She looked at the ghost again and held his steady stare as she made her way over to stand before him. The two just gazed at each other for a moment before Lydia spoke. “Did you take it?”

“Take what, dollface?” Lydia held up her left hand, her fingers barren of any rings. Beetlejuice sighed. “You didn’t want it.”

“I regretted it,” she said quickly. 

Beetlejuice was surprised by that. Even though he had Lydia back, he still didn’t believe that he _truly_ had her back. Not after everything they’d said to each other the night before she left. 

“I don’t just mean the ring,” she said. “I mean all of it. Everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Beetlejuice felt a ten year long weight begin to lift from his shoulders. He reached out and took her hands lightly in his. “I didn’t either.”

Lydia shook her head. “You did,” she said. “You would’ve done exactly what you promised to do if things hadn't... _changed_. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t.”

Beetlejuice didn’t know what to say to that. He’d spent the years without her hating himself for how they’d left things. He knew she’d promised to come back as they fell asleep that last night together, but a part of him could tell, even then, that she was lying. And after what he’d seen in that monster’s bedroom that night, he wasn’t surprised when she never returned—only devastated. But he realized now there was some truth to what she was saying. If she hadn’t fought back, yelled at him, hurt him. If she hadn’t attacked him the way he’d attacked her, then he would’ve done it. He would’ve carried out his threats to get her to stay. 

“I’m sorry,” the demon said softly. “You had every right to stay away.”

Lydia nodded, she wasn't used to hearing apologies from him. The sound of them on his tongue was sobering. “It’s why I thought you’d be mad if you ever saw me again. It’s why I said your name three times before I left.” She had grappled with whether or not to send him back to invisibility before she left, but after their final fight she knew she didn’t have enough faith left in him not to hurt anybody in her absence.

“I understand,” he said. “I understand why you did all of it. I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t want to hurt you, because I did.”

“You always wanted me to believe you,” she said. “But you never believed in me.” She inhaled sharply and Beetlejuice could see the glassy look in her eyes. He squeezed her hands, pulling her closer to him. She reached out a hand and rested it against the curve of his jaw. He sighed and leaned against her palm. “You pushed me away,” she whispered. “I meant what I said that night you chased after me into The Netherworld. I was always going to come back.” She shook her head, dropping her hand.

“Babe,” he said gently, pulling her down to sit on his lap. 

“Beetlejuice,” she said in a hushed voice, trying to keep the urge to cry trapped in her throat. “I wanted to be with you.”

He reached up and pushed a lock of her hair, still damp from the rain, behind her ear. He gazed at her, drinking her in. Her pale skin contrasted against the inky streaks of her running eyeliner; she looked as demon as him. She was as beautiful as ever. “What do you want now?” He breathed.

Lydia dipped her head down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “The same thing I’ve always wanted,” she murmured against his lips. “ _You.”_


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were with my daughter,” she said, “at my grave.” Beetlejuice nodded. “You’re not alive,” she continued. “But you’re certainly not an ordinary ghost like me.”
> 
> “I take it you’re Emily Deetz,” Beetlejuice said in his low, gravely voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday :) hope everyone's staying strong out there. 
> 
> I linked to The Freedom Fund on my last post, so on this post I'd like to link to a fund to help homeless black trans women. In light of JKR most recent transphobic comments, everything going on with the Black Lives Matter movement, and it's Pride Month & pride was started by a black trans woman, I want to use what little platform I have to help. I donated and urge you to do so as well if you are able.
> 
> https://www.gofundme.com/f/homeless-black-trans-women-fund?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=m_pd+share-sheet
> 
> Thank you again for reading my story, and all your kind remarks it truly does mean the world to me<3

Chapter Twenty-Six

Early in the morning on Lydia’s eighteenth birthday, Beetlejuice slipped out from under the covers to leave his little gothic girl still asleep in bed. He quietly made his way over to her vanity and climbed through the mirror. 

Once he was back in the void outside his coffin door, he could see Lydia’s bathroom mirror still floating nearby as well. He sighed in relief, then entered his coffin. He took out a piece of chalk, drew a door, and stepped into The Netherworld. 

The last few times he’d been to The Netherworld with Lydia, he’d tried desperately to keep them undetected. He wasn’t lying when he told Lydia that demons weren’t welcome there. But he knew he had to make things up to Lydia after the mess of the past few days, which is why, for the first time in decades, he went to a caseworker’s office. 

Since he was buried in the cemetery outside the Deetz’s house, he was rarely ever summoned by anyone alive who didn’t live in that small town. This also meant that the ghosts who called on him were usually like The Maitlands, people who had _died_ in that town. Each cemetery lead to a specific office which made this particular one, Casework Office 30063, had become the one he was most familiar with.

The young-looking receptionist glanced up as Beetlejuice entered the waiting room and sighed in annoyance as he approached her desk. “What do ya want, Beetle?” 

He gave his most debonair smile. “Hiya, Jeanie.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not giving you any exorcism passes, demon.”

“No, no, no, Jeanie. I ain’t here for that. I’m here to look someone up.”

Jeanie popped her gum and rolled her eyes again. “Uh huh, who’s that?”

“Emily Deetz.”

“What’s she to ya?”

Beetlejuice clenched his jaw, trying to remain level-headed. He didn’t want to disclose too much and let it slip that Lydia had been here. He was still banking on the hope that Dante had kept his mouth shut. “Someone’s mom.”

Jeanie laughed. “What? You gonna screw someone’s mom just to piss em off? Ya run outta whorehouses already?”

Beetlejuice’s smile faltered. “Damn it, Jeanie, just tell me which door leads to her sector.”

Jeanie kept laughing but turned and typed into her computer to look up Dead Mom’s location. “Huh,” she said. “She wasn’t buried in Cemetery 30063. She’s buried in one in…” Jeanie’s eyes scanned the page.

“New York,” Beetlejuice cut in.

Jeanie looked up at him curiously. “Yeah. Since when do your haunts go cross country?” Beetlejuice shrugged. She shrugged. “Well then how come you’re here and not there? You’re gonna have to take a much narrower door to get to the New York sector.”

Beetlejuice fought the urge to growl in frustration. There was _no way_ he was going to tell Jeanie he was looking for the mother of his _living_ fiancee who might also be a witch. He’d known Jeanie for a fair amount of his afterlife, but Jeanie was a gossip and the two hadn’t been close in decades.

“Long story, toots. Just point me in the right direction.”

Jeanie popped her gum again as she scribbled a door number on a piece of paper and handed it to Beetlejuice. He saluted her and began to walk away.

“Hey, Beetle,” she called out after him. The demon stopped in his tracks and spun back around to face the receptionist. Jeanie shot him a cocky grin. “Hope she’s worth it.”

* * *

Emily Deetz was laying outside, half-asleep, bathing in the eternal starlight of The Netherworld, when she heard the gate to her cottage’s small yard creak open. She sat up from where she was laying on a blanket on the front lawn. She didn’t look a day older than thirty-five. Beetlejuice registered this as soon as he laid eyes on her. _Natural causes,_ he thought to himself. The demon was well aware, as everyone in The Netherworld is, that only those who die naturally get to maintain an unblemished picture of youth in the afterlife at whichever age they felt most comfortable. The ghoul himself would always look as young as the day he died, but his throat carried the eternal mark of how he’d ended; his voice trapped in a forever choking rasp. 

Emily took in the sight of Beetlejuice before her. A shadow against the starry night sky. She resided in a lemon-yellow cottage in one of the country sectors of The Netherworld. She, unlike her daughter and surviving husband, had always be comfortable in solitude. When she’d arrived in The Netherworld almost a year ago, she knew she’d have to wait awhile to see her family again. She missed them, but she felt at peace. 

She got to her feet and approached Beetlejuice. He was taken aback. Lydia was the only person who’d ever been bold enough to approach him, but he supposed it made sense that she got that bravery from her mother, seeing as Charles certainly didn’t have any to pass on.

“You were with my daughter,” she said, “at my grave.” Beetlejuice nodded. “You’re not alive,” she continued. “ _But_ you’re certainly not an ordinary ghost like me.”

“I take it you’re Emily Deetz,” Beetlejuice said in his low, gravely voice.

Emily gave him a gentle smile. He could see so much of Lydia in her. 

“Yes, I am. And whoever you are, you’re in love with my daughter.”

Beetlejuice froze before her. He remembered telling Lydia he loved her, but they’d be half asleep, they’d just had sex, and Lydia hadn’t said it back. He was a demon. A monstrous sight to behold. He hadn’t told a single soul he _loved_ them in longer than he could remember. He was still struggling to admit to himself that he was in love with Lydia, but now he was gobsmacked by the fact that Emily could just _tell._

Emily laughed. “Don’t look so terrified. I’m an empath. I can feel other people’s emotions.”

“I’m a demon, Ms. Deetz, I don’t have emotions.”

Emily kept smiling as she waved him off. “Call me Emily. And of course you do, everyone does. Some just have more than others, and some hide them better than others. You’re like Lydia. No one else can see them, maybe not even yourself, but you’re feeling them all the same. Maybe not as much as you did before you sold your soul, but a small flame still burns. So tell me, why are you here?”

Beetlejuice waited for Emily to demand to know his name, or how he knew Lydia, and a million other things, but Emily Deetz just kept gazing at him calmly as if she already knew everything she needed to know. “It’s Lydia’s eighteenth birthday today,” he said.

He noticed a tinge of sadness flash across the woman’s eyes. “Ah. I see,” she said. “That much time has passed already?”

Beetlejuice nodded. “It’s why I don’t have much time to speak with ya, I need to get back to Lydia.”

“I take it Lydia _knows_ you’re haunting her.”

“Lydia and I are friends, yes.”

Emily Deetz laughed yet again. “What a good liar you are,” she said. The demon wanted to argue with her but she kept talking before he had the chance. “What do you need from me? I haven’t been here long enough to have the energy to travel to different realms of The Netherworld, and I can tell that Charles and Lydia have long since left New York.”

Beetlejuice nodded. “Could you just…write her a letter?”

Emily eyed him suspiciously. “You really _are_ in love with her.”

“Ms. Deetz,” the demon continued, despising how exposed he felt by this woman. “It’s her birthday, she’s been missing you, and I just—”

Emily Deetz held up a hand to silence him. “I’m making you uncomfortable. I get it. Lydia hated talking about her feelings too. I’d imagine she’s even worse at it now.” She raised an eyebrow but Beetlejuice didn’t respond. Emily sighed lightly. “Wait here.”

She retreated into her cottage for several minutes before returning with a folded piece of paper in hand. She gave it to Beetlejuice who tucked it away inside his jacket. “Thank you…Emily.”

He turned to leave, grateful for the painfully awkward interaction to be over, when Emily Deetz called out to him: “Can I know your name?”

Beetlejuice turned back around. “I can’t say it.”

Emily Deetz smirked and shook her head. She had suspected her daughter would go ghost hunting in her passing, but even _she_ was a bit surprised by the idea of a demon falling in love with her daughter. “Take care of her,” she called out.

Beetlejuice wasn’t sure how to respond, but luckily for him he didn’t have to. Emily Deetz turned and retreated back to her house, leaving the demon alone under the night sky.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two locked eyes and she felt a flock of butterflies begin to take up camp between her ribs. “I think,” she said softly, “that you’re my favorite person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I cannot express enough my gratitude for the kind responses you've shown this story! So because you've all been so wonderful I wanted to share some things with you really quick: 
> 
> Firstly, I have actually finished writing this entire fic, there are nine more chapters to go after this one, but don't worry, some are pretty long. I can stick to posting Mon, Wed, Fri, OR if you all would rather get the rest of the story as soon as possible, let me know and I'll consider posting every weekday until it's all up.
> 
> Secondly, I am planning on writing a sequel to this fic because there is a second story arc I want to tell. So if you've enjoyed reading my version of Lydia and Beetlejuice and their journey together thus far, I urge you to follow me so you can be updated to when the sequel starts to get posted.
> 
> Thirdly and lastly, 2020 is still at it again being a bitch so I just wanted to make these things clear:  
> -Trans lives matter, trans women are women, trans men are men, and nonbinary folks are valid and do not need to conform to what heteronormative jerks want them to  
> -Black lives matter; please keep protesting, signing petitions, donating, and being vocal online, we're making progress but not enough.  
> -I hope everyone's doing their best to enjoy Pride Month even though there is so much going wrong right now in the world. My inbox is always open if you ever need to talk.  
> -COVID19 cases are rising in some states due to all the memorial day beach goers, please wear a mask and stay safe, I don't want anyone else going to The Netherworld, stay here with us <3
> 
> My previous two chapters have links posted to places you can donate to help the BLM movement and the LGBTQ+ community.
> 
> Stay strong everyone, now without further ado...IT'S SHOWTIME:)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lydia woke up on her birthday, alone. She was immediately filled with panic until she noticed the wrapped gift beside her. She rolled over and studied it. It was wrapped in paper covered with spiderwebs, she smirked. There was a small card on top. 

_The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. …_

She smiled. It was yet another line from _Frankenstein._ She unwrapped the gift and gasped. It was an edition of _Frankenstein._ Or rather it was a FIRST edition. Right then she heard a thump from her bathroom. She hopped out of bed and rushed over, book in hand. She stopped in the doorway to see her demon on the floor, clearly having tumbled from the mirror. She laughed. Beetlejuice glanced up at her and smirked.

“Happy Birthday, babe. Like your gift?”

At that her smile wavered a bit. “Did you steal this?”

He got to his feet and walked over, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Nah, I just borrowed it, to lend to you, and ya know, don’t ever expect ya to ever give back.” 

He smirked and Lydia knew she should scold him and demand he take the book back right away. But of course she didn’t. Instead she hugged it close to her chest as if it were a newborn baby. 

“Told ya I was gonna make up for fucking everything up the other day.” 

Lydia gave him another small smile. “Why were you in the mirror?”

“Ah,” he said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “To get your other present.”

He handed it to her and she took it gingerly. Not understanding what it could be. She handed the book to Beetlejuice and carefully unfolded the paper. She recognized the handwriting immediately.

_Dear Lydia,_

_I assume you know how the bearer of this note acquired it. He claims he’s your friend, but I’m not a fool; I can see, plain as day that he’s in love with you. I wonder if you’re in_ _love with him too? I hope you are, being in love makes one so happy, and you deserve_ _happiness more than anyone._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t stay alive any longer than I did, I really did fight, but cancer’s a bitch. I know you’re no longer in New York, and as much as that saddens me_ _I understand why your father wanted a fresh start. He was never brave enough to_ _embrace darkness the way you are._

_I know more time has passed for you than has_ _passed for me, and I wonder how much more will have passed between the time I_ _handed this note to that demon of yours and when he hands it to you. He said_ _it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, darling daughter. I love you endlessly._

_And whoever that man in the stripes is, I can tell he loves you too._

_Stay strong._

_Mom._

When Lydia finished reading the note and looked up at Beetlejuice she had tears in her eyes.

“Lydia,” he said gently, hoping he hadn’t made a terrible mistake.

Before he could say anything else, Lydia crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him as tight as she could. Beetlejuice wrapped both his arms around her as well, making sure not to drop her book as he did. He breathed in her scent and let himself be consumed by it. She cried silent tears of melancholy joy against the lapel of his jacket. The words _I love you_ were right there on the tip of her tongue, trapped behind her teeth, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to say them. But she suspected that Beetlejuice hadn’t read the note, so she didn’t feel obligated to. She hand’t said them back the other night in his coffin, and it hadn’t seemed to cause a rift between them at all. She sensed Beetlejuice wouldn’t try to push her to say them until she was ready.

But she _did_ want him to know how much this meant to her, so she pulled back slightly and stood on tip toe to take his face between her small, delicate hands. The two locked eyes and she felt a flock of butterflies begin to take up camp between her ribs. “I think,” she said softly,“that you’re my favorite person.”

Beetlejuice froze and let her words seep in. Out of all the niceties and sweet sentences the goth and the ghoul had shared with one another over the past several months, nothing seemed to carry the intensity that those words did.

He dipped his head down so that his mouth was only centimeters from hers. “You’re _my_ favorite person.” And then his mouth captured hers in a fiery kiss. He wasted no time in teasing her lips apart with his tongue, and exploring her mouth with it. She leaned her head back to grant him access to trail kisses down her throat and along the side of her neck. 

“Don’t ever leave me,” she murmured as he continued to pummel her with kisses.

Beetlejuice dug his fingers into her back, pulling her even closer to him. “I won’t, baby,” he said, his lips pressing against her soft, milky skin. 

“Promise,” she breathed.

He bit down on his favorite spot on her shoulder causing a beautiful hiss to escape her. “I promise, Lydia,” he said earnestly. “I promise.”

The two were so madly in love, even if they didn’t dare say so out loud. They only had so much time left together before Lydia was meant to leave for school. Just a few weeks. Their unholy wedding had yet to take place, but the spider ring still weighed heavily on Lydia’s left hand. In this moment, with their bodies full of want for one another, everything between the two seemed perfect. Harmonious. Eternal. It was tragic really, how quickly it all fell apart.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You’re my person.' 
> 
> It had become their way of saying ‘I love you.’ It felt bigger. Love isn’t always a choice, it’s just something that happens to a person. You can fall in love with dozens of people, but to choose someone to be yours and for them to choose you right back was a kind of magic that made Lydia dizzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CONTENT WARNING* Brief descriptions of sexual assault & violence
> 
> HELLO lovely beetlebabes! I hope you're all staying as safe and as strong as you can. Thank you for all the kudos<3 This chapter is a bit longer, hope you enjoy. Have a good weekend, if you're going to a protest please take precautions: water, knee & elbow pads, goggles, etc. If you're unable to go to a protest please keep calling, signing, donating, writing, whatever you can to help the cause.
> 
> And it is still Pride Month so remember my fellow members of the LGBTQ+ community to love yourself<3
> 
> Also, fuck J.K. Rowling, trans rights are human rights, trans men are men, trans women are women, nonbinary people are valid, and Harry Potter himself supports you.
> 
> Love you all endlessly :)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was early evening and Lydia and Beetlejuice were in her room, reading. During the day it was easy to keep him hidden from Charles and Delia. She didn’t leave her room much to begin with, save for going to the makeshift darkroom in the basement. But the only people who ever came down there were the Maitlands, so there was no real risk in Beetlejuice joining her down there as well. Though the ghost quickly learned that Lydia didn’t like to be bothered when she was working on her photos. 

It was raining outside and the two sat on her bed, close but not touching as they were each consumed in their books. Lydia was re-reading _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_ and Beetlejuice was reading _Wuthering Heights._ “This is terrible,” he said when he reached the halfway mark.

“I know,” Lydia said without looking up from her book.

“Well then why did you give it to me?”

Lydia smirked as she turned the page. “I’m not your teacher,” she said. “You asked for a book to read and I gave you one. Go get another if you don’t like that one.”

“Why didn’t you recommend me one I’d like?” Lydia finally looked up from her book and Beetlejuice realized she was trying not to laugh. “Why’re you laughing?”

“Because,” she said around a smile, “you’re whining. Like a teenager.”

She let the last word hit him with full force irony. He grinned wickedly and moved on her. Taking her neck in his mouth and nipping at her as he toppled her onto her side. Lydia laughed as her book fell from her grasp.

“Ya mocking me, dollface?” He growled into her neck, she could feel his smile pressing into her skin.

She tilted her head back and laughed. “Oh, no, never,” she said sarcastically. 

He brought his mouth up to hers and grinned down at her. She reached her arms up to wrap around his neck and kissed him. When they pulled apart she noticed a slight sadness had suddenly swept across his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He sighed. “You’re not going to want to talk about.”

Lydia fake groaned and rolled her eyes. “Cut it out with the pity party and tell me.”

Beetlejuice smirked at that. He was still always slightly surprised by how comfortable Lydia was with teasing him and talking back. Every other human he’d ever encountered after he’d sold his soul had trembled in fear before him, never daring to cross him. But Lydia was the embodiment of bold.

“You’re leaving soon,” he said. “And, if I’m not going with you…”

“What’d you mean?” She asked.

That sparked a bit of hope in him. “Am I?”

Lydia looked at him in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you? You’re here with me now.”

“I assume once you’re at school it will be different.”

He was still on top of her. She shrugged as much as she could with her back pressed into the mattress. “I don’t share my bedroom with anyone, the other girl and I just share a little common space—kitchenette, bathroom.” Beetlejuice sat up, pulling Lydia with him. She sighed. “Just say what you’re thinking.”

“Marry me,” he blurted out.

Lydia paused for a moment in confusion, before taking his hand in hers. The one bearing the engagement ring. “I already said I would.”

“No,” he said. “Before you leave. Marry me before you go and then I can be human. I can really be with you.”

Lydia pulled her hand back. “Oh,” she said softly.

“What?”

“I just…I didn’t realize you meant so soon. When I…said yes.”

“When did you think?” He asked.

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”

“Well,” he said, trying to swallow his frustration, “we’re talking about it now.”

Lydia nodded, trying to stave off an incoming wave of anxiety. “Maybe after I finish school.”

“That’s four years, Lydia.”

“But we’ll still be together,” she insisted. “And if you were human you couldn’t live with me in my dorm.”

He nodded. “I’d live somewhere else and we could date properly.”

“Beetlejuice,” she said, trying to fight off her own slowly building annoyance, “you died when you were thirty and I’m eighteen. People will be able to tell that there’s an age gap, I  don’t exactly look old for my age."

“Who cares?” He asked.

Lydia sighed and leaned back against her head board. “It’s all complicated,” she said, feeling exhausted by this conversation. She had been trying so hard to just live in the moment with him, and not think about all the questions that needed to be answered and decisions that needed to be made in order to step into the future. 

“Babe,” he said, hooking a finger under her chin to turn her face back to meet his. “It’ll always be complicated with us.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“To be with you,” she said simply, and it was true. “But I also want a life.”

Beetlejuice did his best not to show the hurt her remark stirred in him. He knew Lydia had a life ahead of her, but over the course of the spring and summer they’d spent together, he hadn’t needed to face it. All her time was spent here, reading, taking photos, watching old movies—just _being_ together. Simply. Easily. But in a week she was going to be somewhere else and she was going to be participating in a whole new life and he had no right to try and take it from her. But he knew deep down he wasn’t selfless enough for that. He might’ve been able to learn to feel more boldly with Lydia around, but genuine kindness hadn’t been his forte even when he was alive.

“You’ll have a life,” he said firmly. “I just want to be a part of it.”

“You already are,” she said firmly. She hated when his insecurity came out like this. She didn’t understand how many times she’d have to reassure him that she wasn’t going to leave. She was aware that it was a two way street and she was guilty of making the same begging pleas to not be abandoned, but hers were always swift and caught up in passionate kisses, whereas the demon’s were incessant and desperate. Beetlejuice begged the same questions of her every time. It didn’t make her want him any less, it only made her desperately want to know what had happened to cause this. There was a reason he would forever bear a red welt around his throat; a reason his voice would always carry an unnaturally raspy tone. There was a reason he’d slipped the noose around his neck. And Lydia _knew_ that whatever that reason was, was the same reason he was constantly terrified of losing her. She wanted to pull the answers from his mouth, but she knew better than anyone that trying to force someone to talk about their grief is a surefire way to make sure they never will. 

“What will you do if you’re alive?” She asked instead. “Where will you work? Where will you live?”

He stroked her jawline with his thumb. “Let me worry about that.”

Lydia thought it over a moment or two more. She _did_ want to marry him, and she knew technically it wasn’t a _real_ marriage in the living world. All it did was bring his soul back, bring the breath back into his lungs. If a day ever came when she didn’t want him anymore, or he didn’t want her, there would be no document legally binding them. She didn’t want that day to ever come but it brought her some relief to know that such a safety net existed. And it _would_ be nice to actually date, rather than sit around the house and accidentally fall through the wrong wormholes in the void.

"Lydia," he said in his begging tone. "You're my person."   
  


She nodded and placed her hand on top of his. "I know," she said. After several more moments of painful, agonizing silence she said, “Okay. The night before I leave. In the cemetery. By your grave.”

Beetlejuice grinned and kissed her. She melted into his kiss as she always did. Both of them settled against one another, flooded with their own specific forms of relief. 

* * *

Beetlejuice knew about the monster from Lydia’s freshman year of college. He knew he’d never be able to forget what he saw that night; would never be able to get over the guilt of feeling like he’d failed to protect her. What he didn’t know was that monster was Lydia’s boyfriend. He didn’t know that that wasn’t the first time it had happened to her, and it hadn't been the last. 

His name was Bret and he was Lydia’s freshman orientation advisor; a senior. Twenty-one to her eighteen. She was always surprised by how heavily she felt the gap between their ages whereas with Beetlejuice a handful of centuries felt like nothing. She had rarely even thought about Beetlejuice’s age. He just _was._ He was someone she was _supposed_ to be with. Which is why the first night Bret invited her over to watch a movie she said no. At that point she still planned to go back to the haunted house and marry her ghoul. The ache from their fight and everything that followed on their last night together was still strong in her chest but not strong enough to wash away everything she still felt. Everything they’d said to each other. Everything they were to each other. _You’re my person._ It had become their way of saying ‘I love you.’ It felt bigger. Love isn’t always a choice, it’s just something that happens to a person. You can fall in love with dozens of people, but to _choose_ someone to be yours and for them to choose you right back was a kind of magic that made Lydia dizzy. So she told Bret no the second time he asked.

But then he showed up at her dorm. Her roommate Amalie was out at a party, it was past midnight and Bret smelled like cigarettes and red wine. When she opened the door she was wearing nothing but an oversized black t-shirt. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was in a messy braid. “Oh,” she said. “Hey. What’re you doing here?” Before she could register what was happening, Bret pushed past her, shoving his way into her dorm’s tiny common area. Lydia was unsure of what to do so she just slowly closed the door and leaned back against it. “You okay?” She asked.

He turned around to face her, a little wobbly on his feet. She realized he was drunk. “No, babe,” he said through wine heavy speech.

_Babe._ Lydia fought the urge to cringe. Hearing that word in anyone else’s mouth felt disgusting and wrong to her. 

“I want you, Lydia,” he said, walking towards her. He leaned against the door, caging her in. Lydia felt anxious. She thought back to all the times Beetlejuice had pinned her against a wall but it had always been about an accepted and mutual power play. She _liked_ being dominated by him and he knew that. But even the times Beetlejuice had advanced on her, he was always reading her, always registering what she wanted. Beetlejuice never just _did_ things to her because he wanted to. She knew how Bret leaning over her like this was making her feel, it was a way she’d never felt with Beetlejuice. “You’re a tease,” Bret slurred.

“Fuck you,” Lydia mumbled.

And then Bret’s mouth was on hers. Lydia froze from the pressure of his lips. She was a deer in headlights. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. She liked Bret, sure, but she was _engaged,_ she was in love with someone else. But then the dark voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d left her engagement ring at home. That she’d chanted Beetlejuice’s name three times as she drove away. That being with him was _impossible._ And here was an older boy, he was attractive and well-liked on campus. He was successful and smart, and he wanted her. _Maybe I should try to be normal,_ she thought to herself. So she let herself relax against the door and let Bret put his hands on her body and his tongue inside her mouth. It wasn’t bad at all, but it wasn’t what it was with her ghost.

Bret eventually dragged her into her tiny bedroom and pushed her down on the bed. He didn’t bother with any passionate or longing foreplay, he just started tugging at her t-shirt. Lydia felt the quiet anxiety in her stomach again as she watched him unwrap a condom. She told the anxiety to shut up. _I’m not even a virgin,_ she told herself, _so what’s the big deal?_

She laid back and closed her eyes as Bret climbed on top of her. She was dry as a bone and he couldn’t get it in. “Fuck,” he mumbled. And then he thrusted hard, and entered her slightly. She hissed through her teeth from the sudden and intense pain. “Stop,” she said softly. “I changed my mind.” But could she really change her mind if she’d never even verbally told him that she’d made a decision in the first place? He hadn’t asked if she wanted to be dragged into her room. He hadn’t asked if he could tear her shirt away. He hadn’t asked if she was sure she wanted him inside her. He had just decided himself that that’s what they were going to do.

“Shhh, babe,” he said, and this time Lydia openly cringed at the word but he didn’t notice. “It’ll feel better when I’m all the way in.” And then he _was_ in and Lydia bit down so hard on her lip from the pain that she drew blood. She let it pool in her mouth as she felt the searing tear between her thighs, followed by the sticky blood from within her begin to trickle down her legs. It didn’t take Bret long and when he rolled off her with a grunt he mumbled, “was that your first time?” Lydia shook her head but he just laughed at her. “Liar.” Then he pulled her to his chest and fell asleep. 

Lydia lay perfectly still against him, wanting nothing more than to chant her demon’s name. But what would she say? She, herself, didn’t even fully understand what had just happened. She wouldn’t for many years and many therapy sessions to come. So that night she slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower so that she could wash away the blood and the scent of stale cigarettes from her skin. She sat down in the shower and let the hot water beat down on her. She thought back to the first time she showered with Beetlejuice. 

Her anxious voice told her what had just happened wasn’t right while her dark voice told her to stop being so dramatic. What she _needed_ was Beetlejuice’s voice there to calm her down and reassure her that her feelings were valid, that there was nothing stupid or wrong about being upset.

Lydia wouldn’t use the word _rape_ until she was twenty-two years old and in trauma therapy that Delia had suggested she go to after everything that had happened the night before her college graduation. But that night, at eighteen, alone in a shower in Philadelphia, far away from the haunted house with all it’s wonderful ghosts; Lydia told herself that was how normal teenagers had sex. She told herself being in love with a demon was insane. She told herself she was being stupid.

So she shut off the water and went to get back in bed with Bret. When he woke up the next morning he took them out to breakfast. Several weeks of casual dates and painful sex later and it was common knowledge on campus that they were together. He refused to call her his girlfriend and he left her alone on Friday and Saturday nights to go out drinking. One night he left her alone in his apartment and when he came back she told him she thought it was haunted. He was wasted. Called her crazy, then dragged her to bed.

Bret never told her she was his, of asked if things were okay, or begged her not to leave him. So the day he threw the plate at her she ran for his door and down the hall steps. She heard him chase after her, so she didn’t slow until she hit the pavement outside his building. She was barefoot, her shoes forgotten upstairs. She didn’t dare go back for them. She ran the whole two miles back to her dorm. The whole time she said Beetlejuice’s name over and over again in her head, but she never dared say it out loud.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara reached out for her husband’s hand. “She was so lonely when she first came here,” Barbara said gently. “When he was gone for a few days earlier this summer I thought he was gone for good and Lydia could move past that, but she was miserable, you saw.” Adam nodded, he had noticed how gloomy Lydia became when Beetlejuice was gone. “Lydia doesn’t need anyone,” Barbara said. “But she wants him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm VERY excited for you all to read this chapter. I hope everyone's doing okay (or as okay as any of us can be right now). Please keep fighting, protesting, donating, signing, calling. PLEASE register to vote if you haven't already, wear a mask, social distance as much as you can, and celebrate Pride Month as best as you can. I truly love you all, my inbox is always open.
> 
> Now, on with the show!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lydia left for school in one day. Her suitcases were packed and by her door, her boxes with the rest of her stuff shipped on ahead. In the notebook where she kept her photography notes she also had different mirror incantations written down so she could use her bathroom mirror in her dorm to access the void. She tried not to think too much about the whole _magic_ thing since Beetlejuice had mentioned it. She had enough craziness in her life, she didn’t need the life crisis of possessing magical abilities to also enter the mix. _Besides,_ she’d think to herself whenever her anxiety got tied up in knots about it, _I would’ve noticed other magical things by now if that were the case._ But all day during her last day in the haunted house the idea stuck in her head, filling her chest up with panic she had to fight to keep down. 

“I’m going down to the cemetery,” she said to Beetlejuice. The sun was high in the midday sky and Lydia wanted to capture the light. Beetlejuice was sitting on her bed, as usual, with a book in hand— _Coraline._ The ghoul was so engrossed in the story that he didn’t hear Lydia. She walked over and poked his leg. He looked up at her. “Hey,” she said again, “I’m going down to the cemetery to take some photos.”

“Okay, babe, want me to come?” He knew she was going to say no, she always liked to be alone when she was working on her photography, but since it was their last day together for awhile—until Lydia was situated at school and had a steady enough routine to know when her roommate wouldn’t be around and she could summon him safely—he thought he’d offer.

As he suspected she smiled and shook her head. “No, that’s okay.” She flicked at the paperback cover of her book in his hands. “Enjoy Gaiman. I’ll be in the dark room when I get back.” She leaned down and kissed him then turned and left.

* * *

Lydia had been in the dark room for hours when Barbara materialized beside her. 

“Hi there,” the ghost said in her light lilting voice.

Lydia looked up from the photo she was examining. “Oh,” she said, smiling, “hi, Barbara.” She put the photo down and walked over to embrace Barbara in a hug. 

“Adam and I are going to miss you,” Barbara said.

“I know,” Lydia said, pulling away and retreating back to her photos. “I’m gonna miss you guys too. But I’ll be back at Thanksgiving.” 

The truth was she could use the mirrors to travel to and from her dorm to the haunted house, but the Maitlands knew nothing about hers and Beetlejuice’s night spent falling through wormholes in the void, facing down chalk-dealing ghosts in the back alleys of The Netherworld, and giant sandworms on Saturn; she wasn’t about to drop that bomb on Barbara the night before she left.

Barbara’s gaze landed on Lydia’s engagement ring. Lydia noticed. “It’s not a real world marriage, Barbara, just a Netherworld one.” 

“And what exactly does that mean again?”

Lydia fought the urge to sigh in annoyance. She had explained this concept to Barbara and Adam at least half a dozen times over the summer and was sick of being made to feel like her decision was something she had to defend.

“It just means that our souls will be linked in the afterlife. We’re not married in the real world. He’ll just be human.”

“So if you meet someone at college you’d like to date…”

“Yes, Barbara,” Lydia groaned, not bothering anymore to hide her annoyance. “But you could just accept that he’s who I want to be with. I know it’s weird. I know you and Adam don’t like him or trust him. But _I_ do, so can you guys trust _me_ to make the decisions that I think our best for _my life?”_ Barbara wrung her hands together anxiously, there was clearly more she wanted to say. “What?”

“What does that entail? Being linked together in the afterlife?”

Lydia knew the answer she wanted to say: _It means I’m choosing my soulmate before I die._ But she knew Barbara would be horrified by that answer, the answer had horrified Lydia herself when she first thought it. Not because it wasn’t something she wanted, but because it was such a monumental thing to want—at _any_ age. To realize you’d found someone like that at only eighteen was no small thing. 

“This isn’t unheard of,” Lydia said. “Lots of people find the person they want to be with when they’re young.” Barbara opened her mouth to speak but Lydia continued talking. “And don’t start on the he’s a demon and he died when he was thirty thing, I’m _aware_ okay? Why do you and Adam assume Beetlejuice and I haven’t talked about all this already? 

“I’m sorry,” Barbara said gently, admittedly feeling a bit ashamed; she _had_ assumed the two hadn’t really discussed anything. 

It was true that Lydia was only eighteen but most eighteen year old’s didn’t live with ghosts and demons and take trips to hell. Not to mention the trauma of losing her mother. Barbara didn’t know about Lydia’s depressive episodes, and anxiety attacks. She didn’t know about the roof and Lydia’s debilitating loneliness, but she knew she’d never met another teenage girl like Lydia before—she’d never met _anyone_ like Lydia before.

“Adam and I just want you to be happy.”

“I hate that word,” Lydia mumbled under her breath. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Lydia said, setting the photo down again. “I love you, Barbara. I’ll say goodbye to you and Adam in the morning. And I already told Delia to check with you guys if you want to send me any letters while I’m away.”

Barbara also wanted to ask Lydia if she’d mended things with her father, but she already knew the answer; Lydia and Charles had barely spoken in more than two sentence intervals all summer long. She knew pressing Lydia on anything else tonight would just make her angry and she didn’t want that to be how she left things with her before she left in the morning. 

“Alright,” Barbara said. “Adam and I are going to bed, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Lydia smiled and hugged Barbara goodnight.

* * *

Adam materialized next to the bed right as Beetlejuice turned the last page of _Coraline_ and closed the book. 

“Woah,” the demon said, surprised to see Adam willingly approach him. “What’s happening, sexy?”

“Are you really going to marry Lydia?” Adam said.

Beetlejuice smirked. “Sure am. But relax, Adam, it ain’t a real marriage”

“Then why do it?” Adam demanded, clearly frustrated and doing his best to reign in his anger.

Beetlejuice leaned back against the headboard, folding his hands behind his head. He shrugged. “I want to be alive.”

“You already had your chance to be.”

“Well I want another.”

“Why Lydia?”

“What’d ya mean?” 

Adam sighed, clenching his fists by his side. “Why not literally anyone else? Any other girl you could con or trick.”

Beetlejuice stood up and faced down Adam. Adam took a step back, he wasn’t like Lydia, Beetlejuice _did_ scare him. “I ain’t conning or tricking Lydia,” Beetlejuice growled. “I know it’s hard for you and Babs to comprehend, but unlike you, Lydia actually likes me. I asked her, she said yes. Simple as that.”

Adam swallowed the golf-ball-sized lump in his throat. “Do you love her?” He said.

Beetlejuice studied his fellow ghost. He debated telling the truth, admitting to someone how much he adored Lydia, but he couldn’t bring himself to show his hand. Instead he shot Adam one of his smirks. “I like her a whole lot.”

“You’ve kissed her,” Adam said, his voice cracking from nerves. “I’ve seen it. Downstairs, in the living room.”

Beetlejuice laughed. “Ya spying on us?”

“Barbara and I live here too,” Adam insisted.

“You and Babs don’t live anywhere, yer dead.”

“You sleep in here with her. Barbara told me so.”

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’d kiss her or sleep in here if she didn’t want me to?” Adam didn’t say anything. “Because I wouldn’t,” Beetlejuice said. “I do what Lydia wants. She lets me stay, so I do, because believe it or not I do _actually_ care about her. But if she wanted to send me away, then I would leave.”

Adam hesitated a moment. “Really?”

Beetlejuice nodded. “Really.” He turned and walked to Lydia’s bookshelf, placing _Coraline_ back in its rightful place and began searching for another book to read. 

Adam wanted to say a thousand more things to the demon, but he couldn’t find the nerve. He turned and left Lydia’s room, meeting Barbara on the hallway landing. “Any luck?”

Barbara gave a sad smile and shook her head. “She wants to be with him.”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t understand that.”

“I know, neither do I. But we’re not her parents, it’s not like we can tell her not to be with him, and even if we were and we did, she’s going away to school tomorrow. She’ll be hundreds of miles away, free to make her own choices without any of us around to tell her no.”

“No one tells her no now,” Adam grumbled.

Barbara reached out for her husband’s hand. “She was so lonely when she first came here,” Barbara said gently. “When he was gone for a few days earlier this summer I thought he was gone for good and Lydia could move past that, but she was miserable, you saw.” Adam nodded, he had noticed how gloomy Lydia became when Beetlejuice was gone. “Lydia doesn’t _need_ anyone,” Barbara said. “But she _wants_ him.”

* * *

Barbara and Adam were terrible at keeping track of their copy of _The Handbook for the Recently Deceased,_ which is why they hadn’t noticed when Lydia took it to take photos of in the cemetery. And now as Lydia stood in the dark room, holding in her hands one of the photos she took of it resting on top of a tombstone, she could see clearly the print on the random page she’d opened it too. She hadn't payed attention when she was snapping photos in the cemetery, the text irrelevant lines on a page. But now as she read the words made clear in the picture she felt her heart dislodge itself from her chest and clatter down the ladder of her ribcage. The photo fell from her hands, drifting gracefully down to the floor. 

She walked over to the far counter where she’d left the book. She picked it up and turned to the page it was open to in the photo. She read over the words scrawled across it three times to truly make sure she was processing them correctly.

After she finished agonizing over them, she folded the corner of the page to mark it and headed upstairs. She marched up each step slowly, she felt numb, nothing felt real. When she finally made it to her room, she slowly opened the door and closed it behind her. By this time the sun had long since set, and moonlight was spilling in through her bedroom window. Beetlejuice was on her bed still, but now he was holding her copy of _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland._

He was once again so engrossed in the book that he didn’t notice her at first. When he finally sensed her presence and looked up, he saw her empty expression and was immediately filled with dread. He put the book down and slowly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Lydia?” 

She walked over to him, painfully slow, and produced _The Handbook for the Recently Deceased_ from where she’d been holding it behind her back. 

“Lydia, why do you have that?”

She didn’t respond. He watched as she opened it to the page she had dog-eared and then handed it to him. He took it from her and looked down to see what section she had it open to. He felt his cold, dead heart sink in his chest.

“You,” Lydia said, “ _lied to me.”_


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t look like her Beetlejuice, he didn’t even look the way he had earlier that evening when he’d made her afraid. No, now he was full on demon. He was a soulless creature made of nothing but nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CONTENT WARNING* this chapters features some depictions of physical and sexual assault.
> 
> Thank you all as always for the support, we're entering the third act of the story and I'm so excited for you guys to see how it all pans out :) new chapter on Friday! Hope everyone is staying safe.
> 
> WEAR A MASK WHEN YOU GO OUT PLEASE.

Chapter Thirty

“Babe,” Beetlejuice said, trying to keep his voice calm in the face of Lydia’s rage. 

Lydia stood there with anger coursing through every inch of her body. She nodded down to the book. “Read it,” she said.

“Lydia—”

“ _Read it,”_ she seethed.

Beetlejuice sighed and looked back at the book in his hands and began to read aloud the passage. 

“If a demon wishes to free themselves from the bonds of the curse of the _Power of Three_ they must join in the bonds of marriage with a living being. Once the marriage is complete, the demon will no longer be able to be summoned or banished by the chanting of their name. They will be able to speak their own name freely, while still maintaining the entirety of their powers. The living being in question will now be the one subject to the curse of _The Power of Three,_ their soul will be forever linked with the demon. The demon in question will be able to summon or banish the living being at any time during their life _and_ death from the moment they say ‘I do’ until eternity.”

Beetlejuice finished reading aloud the passage and looked back up at Lydia. He closed the book and set it aside on the bed. He stood up to face her and reached his arms out to hold her but she stepped back quickly. 

“Don’t you _dare_ touch me,” she hissed. “When were you going to tell me the truth?”

Beetlejuice sighed. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to. You’re smarter than that.” Lydia just continued to glare at him. “Fine, I wasn’t going to tell you the truth until after it was done and we were married.”

“Why?” He shot her a knowing look. Lydia practically growled she was so angry. “I don’t care if I already know the answer, I need to hear you say it.”

The demon sighed again. “Because I knew you’d never say yes if I told you the truth.”

“The truth that marriage would enslave me to you!”

“Lydia it would not _enslave_ you to me.”

Lydia scoffed. “It says you could summon me or banish me anytime you wanted for all of _eternity.”_

“Lydia I wanted to be free and I did’t want you to leave me, this was the only way.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Stop yelling.”

“Stop being so fucking calm!” She lunged forward and shoved him but he easily caught her wrists and held her firmly in place no matter how much she struggled against him.

“Babe, you know I’m not gonna let you go until you calm down so you might as well stop.”

Lydia relented and let herself be still in his arms, but of course he didn’t release her. “Where would I go?” She whispered.

“What do you mean where would you go?”

“When you banish me.”

“Doll, I’m not going to banish you.” Lydia began to writhe against his grip again, so he squeezed her wrists tighter to the point of bruising. She let out a startled yelp and went still again. “Nowhere okay? You’d just be invisible to the living world like I am when _you_ banish me.” Lydia remained absolutely silent. Beetlejuice studied her and saw there were tears in her eyes that she was fighting to not let fall. “Lydia,” he said, his voice a bit kinder. “Please, forget about this. Nothing’s changed.”

“ _Everything_ has changed.”

Beetlejuice leaned down and kissed her, Lydia tried to lurch away from him but he wouldn’t let her. He dragged her down onto the bed, tucking her underneath him and pinning her arms down. Lydia kissed him back in spite of her rage. She hated him so much and yet she still wanted him so badly. She felt him release one of her wrists and snake his hand down her stomach to rest between her thighs.

“Let go of me,” she breathed, pulling away from their kiss.

He nuzzled against her neck, biting his favorite spot on her shoulder. “I want you so much,” he growled. Lydia remained silent as his hand began to slide up her thigh, sending chills throughout her entire body. “Tell me you want me too.”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”

She felt Beetlejuice pinch her inner thigh, causing a soft whimper to escape her throat. “ _Liar,”_ he hissed.

“Stop it,” she breathed. “You’re being mean.”

Beetlejuice bit her shoulder again and she whimpered once more. “Good,” he growled.

“Stop it,” she whispered again.

He kissed her neck, right below her ear, causing her to squirm. “You want me to stop touching ya, babe?” Lydia was silent. He pinched her thigh again. “Don’t lie, darling. Tell me to stop and I will.” Still Lydia said nothing. She hated herself for how much she enjoyed his touch. He laughed. “I know you, doll. I can tell when you want my hands on you.”

“I hate you.”

He slid his hand all the way up to her underwear and pressed his thumb against where the cotton fabric covered her most sensitive part. She hissed in pleasure she didn’t want to feel for him.

“I know, babe. But I adore you. Why do you think I wanna marry you so badly? I want to be free forever, with you by my side.”

He began to move the cotton of her underwear aside and still Lydia couldn’t bring herself to stop him. It felt too good. “So you can punish me and lock me up whenever you want,” she said angrily.

“I would never do that,” he murmured against her ear as he began to slide his icy fingers against her. She could feel the warmth between her thighs, giving her away, telling him how badly she wanted him too. 

Beetlejuice roughly thrust two fingers into her and Lydia gasped, tilting her head back against the mattress and arching her back, her pelvis rising up to meet his hand. He began to pump his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace.

“I’m not going to do it,” she panted. “I won’t marry you now that I know.”

He bit her again, and used his free hand to cover her mouth as she moaned loudly. “Yes you will.” He dropped the hand covering her mouth down to wrap around her throat. “You adore me too, even if you won’t say it.”

Lydia knew he was right but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say so. She moaned as he moved his hand inside her. “Fuck you,” she panted as he moved his hand against her harder and harder.

He chuckled against her collarbone as he bit down again, pulling another whimper from her throat as he did so. “I love you, Lydia.”

“No you don’t,” she breathed. “You lied to me.” At that she seriously made a move to get away. “Stop it,” she growled. “I mean it, _stop_.”

Beetlejuice retracted his hand, and let go of her throat immediately. He moved back and perched above her, genuinely surprised. “Lydia,” he said gently. 

She ducked under his arm and crawled off the bed, pulling her clothes back in place as she did. He got up too and moved towards her but she stepped back, her arms in front of her. 

“Lydia, I’m…I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were enjoying it.”

She shook her head, the tears she’d been fighting, finally falling loose. “It’s not that,” she said. “You lied. You lied about this, about _us.”_

“No I didn’t,” the ghoul said firmly. “Don’t make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

Lydia’s hands balled into firsts. “No, shut the fuck up,” she said, shocking them both, but she couldn’t help it, she was angrier than she’d been in a long time. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about this. You don’t get to tell me it’s nothing. Maybe it’s nothing to you, but this is my _life,_ Beetlejuice, and you’re trying to control it. I’m not marrying you. End of discussion.” 

She turned and went to her door only to find it locked. She spun around only to find Beetlejuice towering over her. “No, dollface, it ain’t the end of discussion.” He reached out and snatched up her left wrist, holding the hand that bore the engagement ring. “Ya see this? I asked, you said yes. You’re wearing this. You’re _mine._ We’ve been through this.”  
Lydia yanked her hand away. “I’m not yours anymore.”

She turned to the door again but he wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her back toward the bed, she fought against him the whole way, kicking at him until she tripped him and the two went tumbling down to the floor. She continued fighting him until he had her pinned to the ground beneath him, caging her in place between his legs.

“We promised each other no more running away,” he growled. “You promised you’d always come back to me.”

Lydia laughed scornfully. “You think those promises mean anything now?”

He squeezed her wrists, hard. “Fuck you, Lydia,” he snarled. “I don’t care how mad at me you are. You’re _mine_ , and you’re gonna be my wife. I’m not letting you get away.”  
She glared at him. “You gonna drag me down to the cemetery and force the words from my mouth?” She taunted. “How ya plan on doing that?”

“You need me,” he growled.

“I don’t _need_ anyone,” she said.

He pressed against her, leaning his face down until they were only inches apart. “You’re nothing without me.” He knew he was being vile, he knew how cruel his words were, but his demonic side was in control now. He was livid. They’d been so close but she had to go sticking her nose in that fucking book again.

Lydia lay completely still beneath him. Fresh tears on her cheeks, an emptiness behind her eyes. “Ya think so?” She said softly. “Then maybe you shoulda just let me die.”

He took her chin in his hand, making her meet his gaze. “ _Don’t_ say that.”

“Why not?” She breathed. “You killed yourself. Life doesn’t mean anything to you so why should it to me? If I’m nothing without a demon who’s trying to claim my soul for all of eternity then what’s the point in being alive?”

He was dumbfounded for a moment. Enough so that his grip on her went slack and she was able to scurry up and past him and over to the window. He was on her in an instant, pulling her back as she screamed and lashed out at him. He clamped a hand down over her mouth so the Maitlands and Deetzs wouldn’t hear her. He pressed her back down on the bed, positioning himself above her once again, but any passion between them was long gone.

“Lydia, _don’t you dare_.” She bit his hand but he didn’t let go. “Listen, dollface,” he said sternly, “call me a liar all you want, but I’ve meant every single word I’ve ever said to you. I adore you. I _love_ you. I haven’t loved anyone in centuries. Yes, this contract sucks, but I was never going to banish you. I just want to be with you and I don’t want to constantly worry about you sending me back.” She tried to speak against his palm but it only came out muffled. He sighed. “If I move my hand will you promise not to scream?”

She nodded. He took his hand away. “I wasn’t going to send you back,” she said softly, her anger beginning to be replaced by despair. By heartbreak.

“You’re calling me a liar, doll, but you’ve already sent me back once and tried to a second time. When you get mad it’s what you do.”

“And what if you get mad at me? What if I fall in love with someone and decide I want to leave you?”

“You’re not leaving me.”

“What if I want to?”

He pressed her into the mattress, trying and failing to bite back his rage. “Without me you’ll be alone.”

“I have the Maitlands.”

“Not if I take them away.”

There was a moment of agonizing silence between them. 

“Wha… _what?”_ Lydia breathed.

“You heard me,” he said lowly. “If you don’t follow through on your promise and marry me I’ll send them to the Netherworld and you won’t see them for the rest of your life. You’re mine, and you’re gonna be mine in death. If you want to keep the Maitlands in your life then you need to be my wife.

“Beetlejuice,” she whispered. “You can’t.”

“I _can._ You summoned a demon, babe. Maybe it’s time for you to be as afraid of me as everyone else. You’re _mine,_ I ain’t gonna tell ya again. So you marry me tonight or I’ll make sure you never see the Maitlands again, while you’re alive _or_ dead.” He _knew_ he was being brutal; that he was practically asking her to hate him, but he was completely consumed by his rage; by centuries of heartbreak and loneliness. If Lydia wouldn’t love him then he would make her fear him. 

“Okay,” she said, her voice no longer desperate or angry, but completely apathetic.

“Okay?” The demon asked incredulously.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Now get off me.”

Beetlejuice slowly got up and watched as Lydia got up and walked to her desk where one of her cameras was. She slung it around her neck and turned back to face him. “I’ll meet you in the cemetery at midnight. Now unlock my fucking door.”

He stood up and came over to her. “Where are you going?”

She rolled her eyes. “To enjoy my last night as a free woman.” She stormed over to the door and jiggled the knob. It wouldn’t budge. She spun around to glare at him again. “I’m not running away. I’m not stupid. I know you can find me wherever I go.”

He walked over to stand before her and snapped his fingers, unlocking the door. 

This was her chance. “Beetlejuice,” she said softly. Then again, “Beetlejuice.”

At that he was filled with more vitriol than he had been in decades. He shot a bolt of power through Lydia, knocking her to the floor. He was on her again in a matter of seconds, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Ya fucking kidding me, doll? Here, ya really wanna banish me?” He took his hand away. “Go ahead and try.” Lydia opened her mouth to scream his name but no sound came out. She looked at him— _terrified_. He smirked. “You really thought you could play with fire without getting burned.” He reached out and wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed hard enough to produce a soft gasp from her. The only sound he’d allow her to make. “Now,” he hissed, leaning in close, “are you gonna be a good little girl and behave?” Lydia nodded. Beetlejuice smirked again and released her, sending her voice back into her throat. 

Lydia crashed forward onto hands and knees, gasping for air. She looked up at him, her makeup smudged, rage painted across her irises. 

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, kid.”

_Kid._ It had been so long since he’d called her that, hearing it again in this context cut deep. 

“Can I go now?” She asked softly. She fought back the growl in her throat, trying to push down her anger, because for the first time since they’d met months and months ago, she was… _afraid of him_. 

Beetlejuice studied her. “Where are you going?”

“Into town.”

“Why?”

Lydia pushed back up onto her knees, her camera banging against her stomach. She lifted it and held it up between them. Beetlejuice was towering over where she was crouched on the floor. It wasn’t lost on her how demeaning this all felt. Her, on her knees, begging permission to live her own life. She had feared his controlling side would take over if she had to go through with this marriage, but she had never imagined it’d be like this.

Beetlejuice looked at her camera and nodded. “Meet me in the cemetery at midnight.” Lydia nodded and began to make her way to her feet. Beetlejuice offered a hand out to her but she rebuffed it. “Don’t be a brat, Lydia,” he growled, his hand still held out to her. Lydia looked up at him again and sighed, accepting his help. 

Once she was standing again a painful silence hung between them. Beetlejuice wanted to fix whatever had broken between them, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. He was a seriously flawed being, Lydia knew this, but she’d never seen the cracks in his character become so apparent.

“Okay then,” she said softly, then she turned and left.

* * *

It was 11:45p.m. Lydia knew she needed to start making her way back up the hill in order to be at the cemetery in time. She usually wouldn’t worry about being a few minutes late, but after the events from earlier she was terrified that if she didn’t follow Beetlejuice’s instructions to the tee that he’d punish her as promised. The Maitlands may not be perfect, they may not really understand her, but she couldn’t bear the idea of not ever seeing them again.

She looped her camera over her neck and picked up her pace, her boots smacking down hard against the pavement. It didn’t take her long to realize she was being followed. She didn’t turn around and she didn’t pick up her pace and run; she’d seen enough movies to know that would only make it worse. Instead she pretended like she was fiddling with her camera strap while she actually slipped her hand in the pocket of her dress and pulled out her key ring. She carefully tucked one key inbetween each finger and kept her fist clenched tight against her chest. She continued her steady pace, but all of a sudden the footsteps behind her quickened. She knew it wasn’t Beetlejuice, even in his rage he wouldn’t scare her like this. 

She couldn’t take it anymore, she spun around, key-laden hand outstretched. 

Standing before her was Dante. The chalk-dealing ghost from The Netherworld. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Lydia’s heart hammered in her chest but she fought desperately to remain calm, to seem unbothered by his presence in the world of the living. “Dante,” she said unevenly.

Dante looked to her keys in hand and chuckled. “Whatcha got there, honey?” 

Lydia quickly stuffed her keys back in her pocket. “Sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I was afraid you were some stranger.” He _was_ some stranger. But if she let on that she was afraid of him that was only going to make things worse.

“No problem, sugar,” he said with another chuckle. “What’re ya doing out here all alone this late?”

“Taking pictures,” Lydia said, her hand absentmindedly falling to her camera.

Dante looked down to where it hung right above her hips. She felt like she was burning under his gaze. “Didn’t know you were a photographer.”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah. Um…what’re you doing here in…” _the living world, “_ Connecticut?”

“Came to see you and your husband.”

Lydia did not think now was the time to correct Dante that she was Beetlejuice’s fiancee, not his wife. She knew it would serve her better to let him think her and Beetlejuice were still in the same state of adoration for one another that they’d been when they came to his house in need of chalk.

“Oh,” she said, trying to hide her rising panic. “Why?”

He chuckled again and took another step towards her, leaving only mere inches between them now. Lydia desperately wanted to back away, but she was determined not to show any fear.

“I think you know why, sweetheart. Your hubby got a little too angry last time, didn’t pay the piper for your chalk.”

He leaned in, leering down at her and Lydia’s resolve completely shattered. She turned and tried to take off running but the ghost was too quick for her. He wrapped an arm around her throat and clamped his other hand over her mouth to stifle her screams as he dragged her up the sidewalk and down an alley.

“Awe, don’t be like that sweetie, we’re just gonna have some fun. I won’t even tell your hubby.”

Lydia kicked him in the shin as hard as she could. He stumbled a bit and his grip loosened enough that she tried to run but he reached out for the camera strap around her neck, yanking on it hard, causing her to choke out a gasp. He tugged back until she was flush against him. She ducked her head under the strap and elbowed him in the gut, thanking all the stars that ghosts were corporeal enough to still feel pain. He grunted in anger as she took off running down the alley again but this time he pressed his boot into the back of her knees and with a scream she crashed forward, her face smacking down on the pavement.

He was on her again, pressing himself into her backside. She could feel his want press between her thighs and she screamed, a strangled and frantic cry. He reached around and clamped a hand over her mouth again as she writhed beneath him. She could feel his hand yanking up her dress and tearing at her lace tights.

She bit his hand, hard enough that if he still lived she would’ve drawn blood. He cursed as he pulled his hand back just enough for her to scream: “BEETLEJUICE!”

He flipped her over onto her back and smacked her across the face. She felt heat spread across her cheeks in a terrible burning plume and blood begin to trickle from her nose and mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up you stupid little bitch,” he hissed, as he leaned in close. His hand snaked its way under her hiked up dress and ripped at her tights and underwear, tearing it all away in one easy go, leaving her bare to him. She sobbed and struggled beneath him, bringing her knee up between them. But he wouldn’t budge. 

Lydia decided in that instant to try a different tactic. “Okay,” she panted. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave.”

Dante’s violent grip on her paused for a moment. He smirked down at her and she felt her stomach churn. “Yeah?” He asked with a laugh. He leaned in and bit into her throat and she whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes. 

She tried to lay perfectly still, and keep her breathing steady. She licked her lips and parted her mouth, preparing herself to scream louder than she ever had, and as Dante’s hand reached between her naked thighs, she tilted her head back against the pavement and screamed so loud her throat went scratchy and raw. 

He cursed again and flipped her back onto her stomach, digging his knee into the small of her back. She desperately tried to get her arms in front of her and crawl away as he ripped at the hem of her dress. He laughed under his breath and slid his hands down to her ankles and began to drag her further down the alley.

“BEETLEJUICE!” She screamed again.

Dante slammed down on her and reached his hand around to wrap around her throat again. He squeezed hard and Lydia felt the edges of her vision going black. She tried to shout Beetlejuice’s name again but Dante’s grip was so tight she couldn’t make anything but pitiful, ugly sounding whimpers. Dante’s hand found a place between her thighs again and Lydia closed her eyes, resigning herself to this fate when suddenly the pressure of Dante’s body was removed and the air returned to her lungs. 

She pushed herself up onto hands and knees, gasping and panting. She scurried to pull her dress back down right as she heard a scream. Dante’s scream. She turned around to see Beetlejuice, holding Dante up by his throat. He didn’t look like her Beetlejuice, he didn’t even look the way he had earlier that evening when he’d made her afraid. No, now he was full on demon. He was a soulless creature made of nothing but nightmares. Lydia started to scramble backwards, her hands bloody against the pavement and her knees shredded from being dragged as she watched Beetlejuice begin to squeeze the existence out of Dante’s being.

“Beetle,” Dante rasped. “We were just messing around. I know she’s your lady.”

Beetlejuice seethed. His eyes were red, his skin had an eerie green glow, and his nails had turned to talons around Dante’s throat. Lydia watched on in awe—in _horror_ —as Beetlejuice squeezed and squeezed. With one final scream from Dante his body turned to dust that fell through Beetlejuice’s fingers and onto the ground. The dust was then set aflame and Lydia was paralyzed from terror as she watched what was left of Dante burn away. 

Beetlejuice turned to look at her, and he was _her_ demon again.  Lydia sat there, leaning back onto her bloody hands, her chest rising and falling, trying to get her bearings. Beetlejuice made to move towards her and without thinking Lydia frantically shook her head and tried to crawl away.

Beetlejuice realized her fear and stopped in his tracks, his hands out in front of him, trying to calm her. “Lydia,” he said gently. “Baby, it’s me. It’s okay.”

Lydia could barely see him through her tears and the blood on her face from when she’d hit the ground. She shook her head as she tried to get to her feet, but her legs wobbled and gave out. Beetlejuice waved his hand and Lydia was before him. She was on her knees again, her body battered and bruised, her face caked with blood. She looked up at him, terrified. 

He dropped down to his knees before her and grabbed ahold of her shoulders as she tried to crawl away again. “Lydia,” he said again, even softer this time. “Baby, please, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Lydia was shaking and choking on silent sobs as she just stared at him. Stared into his stormy green eyes that she’d come to find so much comfort and solace in over the past few months. He wasn’t nightmarish or hellish now, he was Beetlejuice. He was _hers._

“You're here _,”_ she said as a ragged sob escaped her and she collapsed into his arms, letting her cries rack her body.

Beetlejuice wrapped her up tightly in his arms and held her close. The two stayed like that awhile, Lydia sobbing and Beetlejuice holding her. Eventually her sobs quieted into steady breathing and he felt her relax a bit in his grasp. She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. He reached up to wrap a hand behind her neck, holding her gaze with his. “It’s okay, babe.”

“He tried to…” she took in a small gasp of air. “I mean he wanted to…he was going to…” she hiccuped from tears. She closed her eyes to let them fall, and began to shake again.

Beetlejuice let his gaze travel down her bruised and bloodied face to take in her torn dress and the blood caked around her palms. As his gaze went lower he noticed that her tights clung to her legs in tatters, her skirt was ripped all along the hem, and her knees were caked in blood. 

“Lydia,” he said firmly, gently pressing his fingers against her neck. “Lydia, look at me.” Lydia opened her eyes and he felt his heart break at the sight of her; his fearless Lydia, battered but never broken. “I’m here. _You’re safe._ ”

Lydia held his gaze for a moment before shaking her head slightly and trying to pull away from his grasp. He held tight though, confused by her unease. 

“You—” she whispered. A shaky hand went up to her throat as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to say more, but couldn’t find the strength to form sounds into words.

Beetlejuice hesitated a minute, trying to understand what she meant. But then it hit him. Earlier that night. Her bedroom. Her voice. He’d silenced it. Taken it from her throat to teach her a lesson. 

“Oh,” he said softly. “Babe, please,” he said, desperation seeping into his own voice, “that was stupid of me, okay? I’d never hurt you. _Never.”_

Lydia’s head was hanging forward now. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “I know,” she whispered. “But earlier…if I had…if I do,” she took a shaky breath before raising her head back up to lock eyes with him. “If I say no, I don’t…I realized I don’t know what you’d do. I know you said,” she inhaled sharply, trying to keep her panic attack tamped down enough so that she could still speak. “You said you’d send the Maitlands away, but I realized I didn’t know what you’d do to me if I refused to marry you.”

Beetlejuice pulled her close again and wrapped his arms around her; one pressed to the small of her back the other pressed to the back of her head, firmly holding her in place against him. “Babe, I mean it, I would _never_ hurt you. I would _never_ force you to do anything like…like _that._ Okay?”

He felt Lydia nod against his chest. “Okay,” she whispered. Then she wrapped her own arms around him and started sobbing again. 

Charles, Delia, Barbara and Adam had long since gone to bed with no idea Lydia had even left the house so Beetlejuice just held her late into the night, the two of them huddled together in the alleyway.

“Doll, lemme take you home,” he murmured into her hair.

“What about the cemetery,” she said, sniffling and pulling back to meet his gaze again.

He reached up and wiped some of the blood away from her mouth. “Forget all that. Let me take you home.”

Lydia wanted to ask him so many questions about what forgetting about it specifically entailed, but she couldn’t seem to form any cohesive sentences so she just nodded. 

Her and Beetlejuice were transported back to the haunted house.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” she cut him off, her voice firm. “I mean it. I don’t care how mad I get at you, I don’t care how fucked up you get sometimes; you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like myself with. I don’t care if we fight every day if it means we still get to be together at the end of the night.” She held onto him even tighter, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close, the water beating down on both of them. “Do you still want me?” She whispered.
> 
> “Lydia Deetz,” he growled, “I will want you for as long as I exist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!
> 
> Exciting news, I will now also be posting new chapters on Sundays as well!
> 
> Thank you as always for the support. I hope everyone is staying as safe and strong as possible during this time. Happy Juneteenth. Happy Pride Month still. Keep fighting, protesting, calling, signing, speaking out etc. Love you all.

Chapter Thirty-One

It took Lydia a moment to realize where they were. Back in her house. Back in her room. Safe. She tentatively stepped away from Beetlejuice, her thoughts racing, her panic still caught up in her chest and throat.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. Her voice was still scratchy from screaming. She looked around nervously then back at Beetlejuice. “What…what do you wanna do now?”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

She nodded, still not quite back to her right state of mind. She could still feel Dante’s hands on her. She could still feel the pavement beneath her limbs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to fight off another sob. When she opened them Beetlejuice was still staring at her. Not with the pity she feared he’d show her, but with honest to god fear. Fear for her wellbeing. For her state of mind. 

“I wanna shower,” she said. He nodded. She turned and headed for the bathroom, she opened the door and looked over her shoulder at the demon who was still standing rooted to the spot. “Come on,” she whispered and then stepped into the bathroom.

Beetlejuice was shocked. After everything that had happened that night, everything he’d said and done to her, and then everything she’d endured in the alley, she was still asking him to follow her. 

Lydia knew it made no rational sense to be inviting him to shower with her, but she craved his touch, she needed it to wash away the feel of the other ghost’s hands. She didn’t care what cruel things Beetlejuice had said or done earlier in the night. She didn’t even care anymore about the lie. After the ordeal she’d been through that night, their fight didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Beetlejuice came into the bathroom behind her and softly shut the door and locked it. He just gazed at her, even bloodied and bruised she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was standing with her back to him, still shaking. She had turned on the shower, and was just letting it run. She made no moves to remove her clothes and get in. He slowly approached her and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Babe, I can go. I don’t need to be in here if you don’t want me to."

Lydia spun around and looked at him with bloodied, tear-stained eyes. “Please don’t go,” she whispered desperately. “I…” she struggled to find the right words to say. “I don’t want to be alone. I want you here. Don’t leave me.” 

He nodded. “I’m not going anywhere. Lydia nodded back and went to reach for the zipper of her dress but hissed in pain. She dropped her arms down by her sides and tried to catch her breath again. Beetlejuice reached out and took her hand in his. “Let me help.”

Lydia didn’t say anything, she just turned around and stood perfectly still. Beetlejuice slowly undid the zipper of her dress and pushed it down so that it slid off her body and onto the floor. He cringed at the sight of her back, covered in bruises and bloody scrapes. Her underwear and tights were long gone, leaving only her bra as a barrier between him and her bare skin. He gently undid the claps keeping it in place and let her slide it off the rest of the way herself. 

She turned around to face him, unabashed and unafraid. She gazed up at him, the fear slowly leaving her body and began to be replaced by the calm Beetlejuice’s presence brought her. 

Beetlejuice made no attempt to hide how much he was drinking her in. Her pale skin, even battered, was glowing. He wanted to get drunk off her. 

She reached out and slid his jacket off his shoulders and then his suspenders. He remained still and let her undress him, only moving to help her when she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. Once the two were completely bare before one another Lydia stepped forward, up on tip toe, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. She pulled away and took in his shocked expression. “I’m still yours,” she breathed.

Beetlejuice would’ve cried right then if such a thing were possible for demons to do. He placed his palm against the curve of her jaw and stroked his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” she said softly against the sound of the running water. She turned and got in the shower, Beetlejuice slowly followed suit. Lydia picked up her bar of soap and washcloth and realized quickly that she was too sore to move very much. She looked up at him with her moon-like eyes. She offered the soap and washcloth out to him. “You can touch me.”

Beetlejuice did his best to repress a growl of want coming from deep in his throat. No matter how much time they spent together, he couldn’t ever get over how _good_ she was. He took the soap and cloth from her and began to help her wash her body. Being careful to be gentle as he cleaned the inflicted wounds, doing his best to avoid causing her too much pain as he did. When her body was properly sudsed up he helped her rinse off and she clung to his biceps, holding him close to her. 

“Beetlejuice,” she whispered against the thrum of the water. “I don’t want to marry you.”

Beetlejuice sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know, babe.”

“But,” she looked up at him again, “I want to be with you.”

“Lydia,” he growled, leaning his forehead against hers. “I was—”

“No,” she cut him off, her voice firm. “I mean it. I don’t care how mad I get at you, I don’t care how fucked up you get sometimes; you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like myself with. I don’t care if we fight every day if it means we still get to be together at the end of the night.” She held onto him even tighter, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close, the water beating down on both of them. “Do you still want me?” She whispered.

“Lydia Deetz,” he growled, “I will want you for as long as I exist.”

She leaned away from him enough to meet his gaze once more. She knew that this decision would make her seem crazy in the eyes of anyone else, but she was done caring what others thought of her. No one had ever bothered to understand her; her sadness, her anger. Beetlejuice understood and respected it all. He had promised he’d never force her to be happy and he’d kept that promise. He’d lied about what the marriage entailed, and she could tell he was never going to apologize for that. She wasn’t stupid—he was a _demon_. He was undead, immortal, soulless. She had been naive to think she could expect perfection from him. 

“I don’t forgive you,” she said. “For the lie.”

He dug his fingers into her back. “That’s okay,” he said. “Because I’m not sorry.”

She couldn’t help a small smile flash across her lips. He was insufferable, and very likely mad, but normal was overrated and after being with him she knew that being with anyone else would be like living under an eternal grey sky. 

The ghoul and the goth stood under the stream awhile longer before Beetlejuice was the one to shut the water off. He got out first and got a towel to wrap Lydia up in. He carried her to bed and tucked her in. He then went to go sit in her armchair on the far side of the room when she reached out for his hand. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need her to. He went and got in bed with her, pulling her close as he drifted off to sleep.

Lydia’s anxiety kept her awake. She tried to relax in his arms and gaze at the moonlight streaming in her window. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him, she knew he could break her heart ten ways to Sunday and she’d still want him in bed with her every night. But she also knew she had to go to school, and she had to protect herself and the Maitlands. She could trust him to take care of her, but she couldn’t trust him to be honest with her. She wouldn’t soon forget how it felt to have her voice ripped from her throat, to feel the bruises on her wrists from where he'd gripped her. She needed space. She needed to make it clear that he couldn’t act the way he had tonight _ever again._

So as the sun began to creep up from underneath the blanket of night, Lydia slipped out of bed and dressed quietly. She tip toed her bags out into her car, and then left a note on the kitchen counter for her dad, Delia, and the Maitlands. She knew it was cruel to leave them with nothing more, but she didn’t want to risk Beetlejuice waking up and thwarting her plan to run away one last time. 

When she was ready to embark on her long drive to school, she went back into her room where the demon was still sleeping soundly in her bed. She crept over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, he stirred by didn’t wake. “I’ll come back,” she said softly. “I promise.” Then she went to her desk, slipped her engagement ring off and set it down quietly. She gripped the doorknob and took a deep breath, steadying herself. 

“ _I love you,_ ” she whispered.

She turned the doorknob and left. She waited until she was safely in her car with the doors locked. She knew she had to do this next part, for her safety and for the safety of everyone in the haunted house. She fought back tears as she quickly spoke the words: “Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.” Then she put the car in gear and drove away. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...she wanted to feel close to death because she couldn’t think of any other way to feel close to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are only FOUR MORE chapters after this before this volume of the story comes to a close. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you'll stick around for the sequel volume and I hope you'll all enjoy how things start to tie together as we near the end.
> 
> Stay spooky:)

Chapter Thirty-Two

The first time Lydia used mirror magic after the wormhole incident, was her sophomore year of college. She was sharing a co-ed suite with another girl and two boys, and on one drunken Saturday night a girl scout knocked on their door. Lydia was the closet to sober so she was the one to answer. The girl didn’t look much younger than her, and she wasn’t, The girl scout, whose name was Skye, was sixteen to Lydia’s nineteen. Lydia always imagined girl scouts as perpetual children so she was surprised to essentially see a grown woman in front of her sporting a green sash covered in patches.

“Hello!” Skye said excitedly. “My name’s Skye, I’m selling Girl Scout cookies. Would you like some?”

If she’d been sober, Lydia might’ve questioned why Skye was doing this in a dorm and not a suburb, but her head was heavy with vodka lemonade, so she contemplated the question seriously before turning around to her suite’s common area where her cohabitants were sprawled across various pieces of furniture gazing at some campy ghost movie from 1988. 

“Hey,” she slurred, “do we want girl scout cookies?”

One of the males, a boy named Christian, who was a senior philosophy major and Lydia thought quite possibly one of the most annoying people to ever live, was the first to look up from where his head was lolling over the back of the couch and shout: “Fuck yeah!”

Lydia held her hand out for cash and Christian stumbled over to hand her a debit card. “She can’t take a card, dumbass.”

“Yes I can!” Skye said with the same annoying enthusiasm. She held up her phone which was sporting one of those attachable card readers. Lydia shrugged and handed Skye the card. “What would you like?” She asked.

Lydia and Christian stared at Skye a moment and then stared at each other, their minds too riddled with liquor to come to a sound conclusion. 

“One of everything?” Lydia asked Christian.

He nodded intently. “Yes.”

Lydia turned back to Skye with a blazé wave of her hand to signal that the girl ring them up. Skye beamed as she ran Christian’s card and then upheaved from her back her giant knapsack that was overflowing with boxes of cookies. She handed nine to the two drunk college kids before her. Christian grinned as he stumbled back to the others, arms overflowing with cookie boxes. Lydia watched him go and then turned back to Skye.

“Aren’t you a little old to be a girl scout?”

“Aren’t you a little young to be drunk?” Skye retorted in her painfully chipper voice. 

Lydia studied the girl a moment, taking in her rosy cheeks and goldilocks hair. She was like the poster child for toxic positivity, the complete opposite of every fiber of Lydia’s being. Lydia laughed. Skye laughed. Then Lydia realized she had been holding her vodka lemonade (her fifth vodka lemonade) in her hand the whole time. She studied the glass in her hand like it was one of Frankenstein’s lab beakers before turning her attention back to Skye. 

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

Lydia handed the glass out to Skye and to her immense surprise, Skye took it. Lydia laughed again and stepped back to let Skye come in. 

The rest of the night, as the five young adults lounged around watching campy 80s movies, Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off of Skye. _She’s a minor,_ Lydia kept thinking to herself. But she had been a minor when she met Beetlejuice. She had been a minor when they first kissed, when she showered with him, letting him see her completely bare. She had been a minor the night she crawled through her mirror and into his bed. She had never stopped to wonder if it was wrong. He hadn’t forced her. She had wanted to. Lydia was conflicted now, was she attracted to this girl? This teenager with rosy cheeks and a bag full of corporate cookies? She watched the girl gulp down a second drink, her rosy cheeks growing even more flush. 

_We’re already being innapropriate,_ Lydia thought. Letting a sixteen year old get drunk with them—a bunch of strangers. But Lydia found that some of Beetlejuice’s loose morals must’ve rubbed off on her during the summer they spent together, because she couldn’t find it in herself to care at all. 

“Hey, Skye,” Lydia said through booze-heavy speech. “Wanna see something cool?”

Skye studied Lydia, intrigued by the drunk goth and nodded, her incessant smile still slapped across her lips. Lydia grinned and stood on shaky legs, offering Skye her hand. Lydia lead them to the small bathroom on the girls’ side of the suite. 

“We have to be quiet,” Lydia whispered. Skye nodded. They entered the bathroom and Lydia kept the lights off. Skye didn’t say anything, just let her eyes adjust to the darkness, and then kept them trained on Lydia’s. “Do you believe in magic?” Lydia whispered.

Skye raised an eyebrow, not sure if the goth was messing with her or not. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do you?”

“Not until I was seventeen.”

“I see,” Skye said. “Any particular reason why that age?”

Lydia placed both her hands on Skye’s shoulders and leaned in slightly. Skye was the same height as her, so she couldn’t loom over the girl the way Beetlejuice always had loomed over her. She found it slightly disappointing. “I met a ghost,” she whispered. “A _demon.”_

Skye giggled around her lemony-vodka-coated tongue. “Really?”

Lydia nodded, smiling. “And we fell in love. But he went missing so I went through a mirror to find him in the void. Between the living and the dead. I used magic. I might be a witch.”

Skye laughed. Not in a mocking way but in the way all drunk girls who barely know each other in bathrooms do. “Can you show me?” 

Lydia grinned. “I think so. I haven’t done it in a few years though.”

“ _Try_ ,” Skye whispered.

That one word from those citrus-scented lips gave Lydia an odd surge of confidence. She nodded and walked over to the bathroom mirror. She sorted through all the mirror incantations she had memorized from her little book to try and find the right one. She skipped through them like songs on a playlist until she came to one that felt right. 

She climbed onto the counter and placed her palms flat against the surface like she did years ago when she went demon-hunting. 

“By the light of the moon,” she began to whisper, “and the stars brighter than this, lead us into the beautiful abyss.”

It was a short spell, much simpler than the one she’d used to find Beetlejuice’s coffin years ago, but she wasn’t looking for a specific place this time, she was simply looking for an adventure. Sure enough, despite years with absolutely no practice, her words hit just right and the surface of the mirror began to move like waves in water. Skye sucked in a sharp and astonished breath. The girl wondered if it was the vodka or if she really had stumbled upon a witch. 

Lydia turned back to Skye, grinning with pride. “What do we do now?” Skye asked.

Lydia held her hand out. “We go through.”

Skye looked a little uncertain and perhaps if she’d been sober she would’ve seen this for the insanity that it was; if she had been sober she probably wouldn’t be in Lydia’s bathroom. But both were drunk and the mirror was magic, so Skye took Lydia’s hand and they climbed through. 

Much like the last time Lydia went through a mirror, the two girls tumbled, crashing down onto a solid surface that was simply black nothingness. Lydia swallowed a quickly forming lump in her throat, the memories of the anxiety she’d felt the last time she was in the Inbetween came swirling back. She realized that Skye’s hand was still in hers. Lydia liked how it felt there.

“Woah,” Skye breathed. “Now what?”

Lydia thought about it, she knew what she was about to suggest was incredibly stupid, but she was too far gone in her boozed giddiness and the feel of Skye’s hand in hers to care. 

“Wanna go to The Netherworld?”

“Where?” Skye said, here eyes coated in awe.

“The land of the dead,” Lydia hissed. Skye’s grip on Lydia’s hand tightened a bit and Lydia was decided. She wasn’t sure this was going to work but she knew it was worth a try. “Follow me,” she said and Skye nodded.

Lydia lead them deeper and deeper into the abyss until she managed to find a series of wormholes. Beetlejuice had never told her how he’d selected them, so she wasn’t at all sure herself.

“What’s this?” Skye asked.

“Wormholes,” Lydia said softly, without looking at Skye.

“And one of them leads to The Netherworld?”

Lydia nodded. She wanted to appear all knowing in front of this girl, she didn’t want to let on that she had no idea what she was doing and was starting to sober up and seriously question what she had gotten them into. 

Lydia walked towards one of the wormholes that radiated an energy so intense she could feel it seep into her body and rattle her bones. She had no idea if that was a good thing but she was ready to be reckless. Like the night on the roof. But this time, she wanted to feel close to death because she couldn’t think of any other way to feel close to him. 

So she lead them into the abyss within the abyss.

There was the familiar feeling of being pummeled and beaten. And there was screaming. Mostly Skye’s. And then they crashed onto solid pavement. Lydia pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and exhaled. She almost couldn’t believe it. They were in _the_ alley. The one Beetlejuice had dragged her down two years ago. The one where he’d pressed her up against a wall and then pressed his mouth between her legs. She shivered just as the thought of it.

“Oh dear god,” Skye said, making her way onto her knees and sitting back on her heels. “We’re really here. I thought you were just crazy.”

“I am,” Lydia said. “A little.” Her and the girl scout stared at one another a moment. “Can I kiss you?” Lydia asked.

Skye hesitated a moment, surprised but not put off. She nodded. Lydia leaned in and pressed her lips to Skye’s. The girl tasted like peach lip gloss mixed with lemonade and vodka; it was incredibly intoxicating. Skye was also no stranger to kissing, or kissing girls for that matter. She reached her hands up and tangled them in Lydia’s dark curls. Lydia parted her lips a bit to deepen their kiss and soon her hands were wrapped around Skye’s back. Lydia was the one to break the kiss first.

“This was stupid,” she breathed.

Skye looked hurt.

“Not this!” Lydia said, taking Skye’s hand. “I mean _this,”_ she gestured around her. “Taking you here, it’s not safe. I was drunk and showering off, we have to get back now. Time is moving differently down here with the dead, so who knows how long we’ve really been gone.”

Skye nodded and the two teenagers kissed again. Lydia wondered if it was wrong, much like how at first she’d wondered if being with Beetlejuice was wrong. But they weren’t children, and they were both willing, so how could it be wrong to feel Skye’s lips against her own? _It isn’t,_ Lydia thought firmly to herself.

“Okay,” Skye breathed, breaking the kiss. “How do we get back?”

Lydia bit her lip, not wanting to say what she had to, but it was the only way back to the living world. “Say _Beetlejuice_ three times.” 

“What? Why?”

“It’s the name of a demon, he can draw a door and take you home.”

“You know a demon? You meant that? I thought you were just—”

“Crazy?” Lydia finished for her, with a small smirk. “I am, and Beetlejuice is real. But…” Skye held Lydia’s gaze, waiting for her to continue. “You can’t let him know I’m here.”

“Why not?”

“We didn’t leave things so great last I saw him.”

“Then how will you get home too?”

“Just…tell him to give you a piece of chalk.”

“What?”

“I don’t have time to explain it. Tell him if he doesn’t give you chalk you’ll say his name three more times and banish him. I’ll hide over there, in that shadowy part, and when he’s not looking, roll the chalk over to me.”

Skye shook her head. “This madness.”

“Life is madness, darling.”

Skye gave Lydia one last nervous glance before nodding. Lydia kissed Skye lightly then scurried off into the shadows to watch the girl scout summon the demon. 

“Beetlejuice,”Skye began nervously. “Beetlejuice.” She took a final breath. “Beetlejuice.”

And then he was there. Stripes and all. Towering above Skye. Lydia felt her heart leap into her throat, nearly choking her. She fought the urge to run out into his arms and tell him how she much she missed him; promise to never leave him again. But her promises to him had proved to mean nothing and she knew she couldn’t bear the chance of him rejecting her. So she watched silently from the shadows. She couldn’t really hear what the two were saying, but she could see the anger on Beetlejuice’s face, surely at Skye’s demand for chalk. She saw it morph into frustration as he dug into his pocket and produced a piece for her. Skye then made like she had to tie her shoe, and when Beetlejuice wasn’t looking, she rolled the piece into the shadows. Lydia leaned forward from her shadowy hideout and snatched it up. Then she quickly pressed her body back up against the bricks, ducking into the darkness.

She watched as Beetlejuice drew a door with his own chalk, and lead Skye through. Skye shot Lydia one last glance before stepping into the darkness. 

Lydia never saw Skye again.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No running away this time, babe.”
> 
> Those words had once meant something sweet between them, but Lydia could hear in them now, a much more sinister undertone. The ghoul’s eyes were the same stormy green they always were but now as she looked from her ring to him she saw in them the possessiveness he’d clearly given up fighting against.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters until this volume ends, thank you all so much for following this wild ride<3

Chapter Thirty-Three

Nearly a decade later and Lydia is sitting on Beetlejuice’s lap, her endless memories of all the ways they hurt one another dissipating with every passing moment. Beetlejuice leaned forward and rested his head against her chest. He breathed in her scent, she always smelled of wilted roses and hazelnut coffee; she was intoxicating and how he had missed getting drunk.

“You came to me in dreams,” he said softly. “I would sleep and you’d be there.”

Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in close. “And what did we do? In these dreams?”

Beetlejuice pulled away from her chest to look into her eyes. He smirked slightly. “They weren’t acts fit for me to repeat in front of a lady.”

Lydia laughed softly. “Well,” she breathed, dipping her head down close to his, “show me then.”

A moment passed between the two of them and then his mouth was on hers. It was feverish, like they’d been starving for years and their bodies were a banquet for each other to consume. Beetlejuice’s hands dragged up her sides and she gasped from the forcefulness of his touch. “Get up,” he growled, yanking Lydia from his lap to stand before him. She was always stunned speechless when he was demanding with her. But she had grown up enough to not feel shame in enjoying it. Their power play had intrigued her as a teenager but now, as a grown woman, she hungered for it.

Beetlejuice gazed at her. Drinking her in. Committing every inch of her to memory to save and replay over and over again. He snaked an arm up around her waist and pulled her roughly to him, she let out a small gasp as he did. “What do you want, baby?” He said, his voice becoming an animalistic snarl. Their kisses in the graveyard had done nothing to sate him. He was a monster, she was his prey, and he had been longing to devour her again for years.

Lydia held his gaze steady, the two remained unblinking and she remained still in his arms. She exhaled shakily. “Whatever you want.”

Beetlejuice felt his gut lurch with excitement. “Lydia,” he growled, wanting to make sure she was sure. 

“Yes?” She asked, feigning innocence. She was killing him and he was already dead.

He dug his nail deep into her back, and despite her dress providing a barrier between them she still hissed through her teeth from the pressure. “You’ve always been very bad at listening to me,” he said. “You never did what I told you to.”

“Tonight I will,” she breathed. 

Beetlejuice growled low in the back of his throat, and yanked her even closer to him. She braced her hands on his shoulders, feeling a fire in her belly so strong she feared her knees would give out from the heat. 

“Promise me?”

She nodded. “I promise.”  
But the demon laughed lowly. “Your promises have a history of meaning nothing, darling.”

“If I recall,” Lydia said, her voice taking on a breathiness that began to drive the ghoul mad, “there was a night…in an alley where you found a way to make me behave.”

Beetlejuice dug his nails into her back again. “Lydia Deetz,” he growled. “Tell me to stop and I will.” The two knew they were playing a dangerous game. He waited for Lydia to douse their growing flame, but she kept her lips pressed together in a thin line. Beetlejuice smiled at her, one of his dastardly grins. “Take off your clothes.” He commanded.

Lydia shivered a bit from his intensity but she didn’t hesitate in obeying. She hadn’t realized how much she’d adored their power play until she’d been without it for so long. She had always loved their tender moments together, but those would not satisfy her or him now, not after nearly ten years. Not after all the hurt. Not after the way things ended before.

Lydia reached up her hands to the buttons on the front of her dress, they were shaking from excitement and nerves. Beetlejuice dropped his hands from her back to sit and stare intently at her as she struggled with her buttons. She brought her eyes back up to meet his. “ _Help me,_ ” she whispered.

Without any hesitation he reached forward and ripped at the front of her dress, sending buttons scattering everywhere. Lydia gasped and looked down at him with slight annoyance. The demon gave her a coy smile. “Oh I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed. “Did you wanna argue with me?” Lydia opened her mouth but Beetlejuice began to run his hands up and down her sides, digging his fingers into her skin as hard as he could, the pressure silencing her. “You promised you’d behave,” he growled.

Lydia was one again struck dumb by her want for him, so she simply nodded numbly. Beetlejuice moved his hands from her side up to where her dress hung open. He pushed it down her shoulders and off her arms until it slipped from her body and fell by her feet. She stepped out of it, kicking it to the side, now standing in front of Beetlejuice in her bra, tights and boots. 

Beetlejuice’s hands found her breasts and gently cupped them above her bra, but he slowly pushed the fabric away so that her nipples were exposed. She inhaled sharply from the chill she felt run through her. Beetlejuice smirked then learned forward and took her left breast in his mouth, teasing the nipple with his teeth. Lydia’s hands dug into his shoulders as she gasped. Tilting her head back slightly as Beetlejuice lavished her with his skilled tongue. 

He used one hand to wrap around her waist and hold her in place against his mouth while his other reached up to tease at her right nipple. Lydia moaned softly as Beetlejuice twisted her nipple— _hard._ She gasped louder and bucked forward. Beetlejuice chuckled as he moved his mouth to take her other breast between his teeth and tongue. 

“Tell me you missed me,” he growled, biting down on her breast so hard she yelped.

“You know I did.”

“Say it,” he commanded, kneading his free hand into her left breast, causing another moan to escape her lips. 

“I missed you,” she practically shouted between pants of pleasure. 

Beetlejuice retracted his mouth from her breast and quickly undid her bra, letting it fall away from where he’d pushed it down her chest. He moved his hands down to the waistband of her tights and then noticed her boots were still on. In one motion he swept her up into his arms and practically threw her down on the bed. She squeaked a little in surprise but of course she didn’t fight him. She was dizzy with want.

He pulled her clunky boots off, tossing them aside with a thud and then reached up again to the band of her tights. He kept his hungry gaze trained on hers as he tauntingly hooked his finger under the elastic and moved it back and force across the soft flesh of her stomach. The feather-light touch sent chills through her whole body, racking her with shivers and mewls. 

“Please don’t tease me,” she begged.

He laughed yet again and crawled on top of her, cruelly removing his finger and dragging it slowly up the length of her body. She bit down on her lip to keep her pathetic sounds of desperate want from filling the air around them. 

He dragged his finger up her chest and up the length of her throat until it rested against her lips. “Open,” he commanded.

Lydia obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips for him. His finger slipped into her mouth and she instinctively closed her lips around it and began to suck, sliding her tongue up and down. The demon growled and then swiftly pulled his hand from her mouth and reached down to rip away her tights, violently yanking them down her legs. He stepped back to gaze at her. Before him in nothing but her black lace underwear. 

“Good Gods, Lydia,” he breathed. 

“Beetlejuice,” she whispered from where she lay sprawled out before him like a feast. 

“Yes, darling,” he drawled stepping towards her and reaching his hands down to spread her knees apart. 

“I…I missed you,” she said for a second time.

He could hear an ache in her words, and the fact that she had said them without him prompting or commanding her to this time sent a shock through his body. He dug his fingernails into her knees. “I missed you too, Lydia.”

She smiled, she loved the sound of her name in his mouth. 

He crawled back on top of her and held her gaze as he reached down and slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her underwear. Lydia moaned as he waisted no time in inserting two fingers into her and began moving them at a punishing pace. She reached her arms out to wrap around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. He dipped his head down and bit into his favorite part of her neck, drawing blood like he used to and she cried out in euphoric, painful bliss as he did.

“I want you,” she moaned. “ _Please_.”

He removed his fingers from her and sat up a bit, pushing her legs as far apart as they’d go. “I’m in charge, babe,” he said, a cocky grin on his lips.

“I know,” Lydia said breathlessly. 

He moved quickly so that he was back over her again, his face only inches from hers. “You gonna behave this time, baby?” Lydia nodded. He wrapped a hand around her throat and held her in place, pinned beneath him. “We do it this time, Lydia, and you’re _mine._ Understand?” Lydia nodded. “ _Say it,”_ he snarled.

“I understand,” she breathed shallowly against his hold on her throat. “I’m yours.”

And then in the blink of an eye the demon’s clothes were gone and he thrusted into her quick and hard. Lydia’s head fell backward as she cried out from the intense painful pleasure. “Beetlejuice!” She screamed.

He clamped a hand down over her mouth, grinning. “Careful now, baby.”

Lydia smiled at him, her face slick with sweat, her tongue practically salivating with want. “Harder,” she begged. “Please.”

He leaned down and bit the skin underneath her ear, drawing another mewl from her throat. “Ya want daddy to fuck you harder?”

She laughed. “You want me to call you _daddy_ now?”

He bit her again, playfully this time. “You said you’d behave,” he said tauntingly, a smile coating his lips. 

“I want to,” she breathed as he continued to move against her.

“Then _do it.”_

She smirked. Gods she had missed him. She turned her head towards him, and he pulled his teeth away from her neck as she did. She held his stormy green gaze. “Okay… _daddy,”_ she said, drawing out the last word. 

The demon smiled wickedly and then in one fluid motion, flipped them over so that he was on his back and Lydia was straddled on top of him. A laugh escaped her as he did. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this much joy. Except…she could, it had been with him. In this bed, in this house, in his arms. 

Beetlejuice noticed the shift in her expression. He placed his hands on her hips and rocked against her. “C’mere,” he said.

Lydia leaned down and pressed her mouth to his. The demon pressed his tongue between her lips and groaned pleasurably as she allowed him to do so. He took claim over her mouth as he dug his nails into the soft skin around her hips, thrusting against her harder and harder. Lydia mewled against his mouth, the sound traveling down his throat. He drank it up. He wanted to get drunk off her. 

The two continued to move against each other— _with_ each other, faster and faster. Lydia’s soft mewls built up to desperate moans. “Beetlejuice,” she gasped.

He shifted up to sitting and wrapped his arms firmly around her. “Lydia,” he breathed, pressing a kiss into the hollow of her throat. 

Lydia’s moans escalated to screams and Beetlejuice moved his mouth to hers again to swallow the sound. “Come on, babe,” he growled against her. 

Lydia rocked her hips harder and harder until she reached release. She screamed against his mouth and his tongue ate up the sound. She shuddered from relief as the two collided back down onto the mattress, his arms still wrapped around her. They lay there like that, with her perched on top of his chest, his length still inside her. Everything felt perfect and peaceful. Then Lydia felt a cool band wrap around her finger. She glanced over to see her engagement ring back in its rightful spot. She turned back to Beetlejuice and gave him a soft smile, but she immediately regretted it.

“No running away this time, babe.”

Those words had once meant something sweet between them, but Lydia could hear in them now, a much more sinister undertone. The ghoul’s eyes were the same stormy green they always were but now as she looked from her ring to him she saw in them the possessiveness he’d clearly given up fighting against. 

Lydia shifted off of Beetlejuice and over to the edge of the bed. Beetlejuice sensed the change between them, but it had been too long; any amount of time without Lydia as his would be too long. 

“Babe.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, sharply.

There was a pause between them. A terrible, agonizing, silent pause. Then Beetlejuice sighed and Lydia closed her eyes, grimacing. She felt like an idiot. _I should’ve known,_ she thought to herself. When she opened her eyes, Beetlejuice was dressed, standing before her. She looked down to find her own body was clothed once again too. The sheets of the bed didn’t even look the slightest bit tousled. It was as if nothing had happened. Lydia grimaced again. All these years, all this waiting, to then watch it be wiped away. She looked up at him as he towered before her. 

“I have to marry you,” she didn’t pose it as a question, but the demon nodded anyway. She studied his face, searching for signs of remorse or guilt, especially after everything that had happened that last night together. But his eyes only showed sinister want; earnest desires. 

“I love you, Lydia.”

She sighed. “No, you don’t. You don’t know what love is.” She got up and walked past him toward the bathroom. 

“You’re right,” he called out, surprising her. Lydia stopped and turned back around to face him. “You’re right,” he repeated. “I don’t know what love is. Or I didn’t at least.”

Lydia scoffed. “Until what? You met me?”

Her mocking tone produced a growl from the demon but Lydia didn’t waver. He stormed over to her and reached a hand out to touch her face, but hesitated. He growled again in frustration. “All I know, Lydia, is I look at you and it’s just…it’s a different wold. A _better_ world. You want me to trust you not to leave me, but I don’t. You will. And I can’t have that. I can’t keep having to endure losing you. I just _can’t."_

“If you don’t want me to go,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “Then stop giving me reasons to.” She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lydia,” Barbara said gently, “do you plan to go your whole life without ever admitting that you’re in love with him?”
> 
> Lydia felt a sob catch in her throat. “I don’t…I don’t…”
> 
> “You do,” Barbara said firmly. “Trust me, I didn’t want you to. And I didn’t really believe you back then when you talked about how much he cared for you. But I’ve seen enough of the way you two look at each other to know. He adores you, Lydia.”
> 
> “Adoration is not love.”
> 
> Barbara nodded. “But love is love.”
> 
> “I can’t love him, Barbara,” Lydia whispered. “It’s just too hard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONLY TWO MORE CHAPTER YET BEFORE THIS FIRST VOLUME OF THE STORY COMES TO A CLOSE!!!!!

Chapter Thirty-Four

Lydia stalked upstairs to find the Maitlands. Even though the Maitlands and the Deetzs had agreed years ago to be cohabitants of the house, the Maitlands still tended to keep to themselves. Lydia opened the door to the attic to see Barbara reading and Adam working on an antique rocking chair. They both looked up when she came in.

“Lydia!” Adam said, rushing over and pulling her into a hug. Lydia didn’t particularly want to be hugged right then, but she knew he had missed her, so she allowed it.

“Hey, Adam,” Lydia said, doing her best to smile as the ghost broke apart from her. “Listen, I know it’s been…awhile, but I was hoping to talk to Barbara.”

Lydia could see the hurt in Adam’s face, but he nodded and vanished. Barbara came over to stand before Lydia. “What’s wrong?”

Lydia desperately wanted to tell Barbara the truth, about why she’d never come back, about why she’d snuck away to begin with. She wanted to confide in someone else what she had learned a marriage to Beetlejuice would really entail, but looking into Barbara’s innocent eyes, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to do any of that. Barbara was the kind of person who never knew darkness, the deepest her sadness ever got was a light grey. Lydia was the embodiment of storm clouds and Beetlejuice was the thunder and lightning. He was who she was meant to be with, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of entrapment that overcame her when the let it sit with her what their marriage would entail. 

“I didn’t _want_ to leave him,” she finally said, sharing some truth with Barbara. “But I felt like I had to. He made everything so complicated and difficult and I was only eighteen and I didn’t know—”

“What do you know now?” Barbara cut in. 

“I don’t know,” Lydia said in a small voice.

Barbara reached out and gave Lydia’s shoulders a light squeeze. “I think you’ve known for awhile, you just don’t want to admit it to yourself.” 

Lydia shook her head, not entirely sure what she was even denying.

“Lydia,” Barbara said gently, “do you plan to go your whole life without ever admitting that you’re in love with him?”

Lydia felt a sob catch in her throat. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“You do,” Barbara said firmly. “Trust me, I didn’t want you to. And I didn’t really believe you back then when you talked about how much he cared for you. But I’ve seen enough of the way you two look at each other to know. He adores you, Lydia.”

“Adoration is not love.”

Barbara nodded. “But love _is_ love.”

“I can’t love him, Barbara,” Lydia whispered. “It’s just too hard.”

“Oh, honey,” Barbara said. “If it were easy it wouldn’t be real. It’d just be an idea. I know you have your reasons, for why you left; for why you stayed away. But you came back. _He_ brought you back.”

“My dad asked me to come back, to watch the house for the summer.”

“You’re a grown woman, you could’ve said no.”

“I don’t know how to love,” Lydia whispered.

“Neither does he,” the ghost said. “But together, maybe you two can try.”

Lydia nodded weakly, knowing as she did so that she wasn’t going to try. She was too afraid of ever feeling again the way she had in that alley with Dante, or in bed with Bret. Her memories of the feel of Beetlejuice’s skin against hers were nothing but wonderful, she didn’t want to risk tarnishing them should he ever become more demon than ghost with her. And if she married him, she was almost certain such a thing was inevitable. 

* * *

Lydia returned to her room to see Beetlejuice on her bed, reading _Frankenstein._ She sighed, and slammed the door loudly causing him to look up.

“You’re still here,” she said.

He closed the book. “Where else would I be?”

Lydia shrugged. He had a point.

“So are you going to quit screwing around, babe?” He asked.

“Fuck you,” she grumbled.

“Babe,” he said, standing up from the bed. “I really still don’t get what the big deal is? You said yes once.”

“We’ve been over this, I thought the rules were different.”

He sighed. “Listen, kid—” she cringed, but he didn’t notice. He walked over to stand before her; a striped statue towering above her. “I let ya get out of it before, but I’m not going to this time. I just got you back, I’m gonna make sure I get to keep you.” Lydia looked at him incredulously. “Not very noble of me, I know,” he said, not sounding remorseful at all. “But it is what it is, so you can either willingly agree to marry me, or I’ll make you.”

Lydia was gobsmacked. She didn’t know what to say. She’d witnessed him be this demanding with her before, but years apart had weakened the memory of it; now faced with it up close and personal once again, she felt like she’d been beaten down with a baseball bat.

“I’m not going to marry you,” she said, firmly.

Beetlejuice sighed. “You are.”

“That’s not love,” she retorted. “Forcing me into marriage.”

He shrugged. “It’s how I love. I want you.”

“You could want me more fairly,” she stated.

He shrugged. “I could. But I don’t. I _am_ still a demon, Lydia. I’m selfish. I want you, so I’m taking you.” He reached out for her, but Lydia jerked to the side, towards her vanity. He sighed again. “You can’t outrun me.”

“Oh yeah?” She said. “Wanna bet?”

Then, to the demon’s surprise, she flung herself at her vanity, chanting under her breath. The mirror turned to liquid and she dove through, leaving the ghoul alone. Again.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have loved you my whole life. I loved you before I knew you.” She took another step closer and another until they were face to face and her tears of rage and heartbreak were openly falling, her face now covered in them. “It’s always been you. I realized that the day I left. That there was no one else. It would be you or nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER!!! The final chapter in this first of a duology will be posted on Sunday! Thank you as always for following this wild ride <3

Chapter Thirty-Five

Lydia tumbled from the mirror into the familiar nothingness. She landed before the door to Beetlejuice’s coffin and debated going inside and finding some chalk, but she was an adult now, she knew how stupid running into The Netherworld was. She looked to her bathroom mirror and knew that was no way out either. She gritted her teeth, realizing she needed a third option. Something she had never tried. She saw Beetlejuice’s striped pant leg step through her vanity mirror above. She inhaled sharply and turned to run deeper into the abyss.

She ignored the burning pain in her chest from where a heartache was blooming. She’d just gotten him back, and it was like she was eighteen all over again. She knew she couldn’t marry him. She would’ve in a heartbeat if it had meant what she had originally thought it did. But binding her soul to his in a way that resembled ownership wasn’t something she could bring herself to do then, and it wasn’t something she could bring herself to do now. She had hoped he had grown past this want, that he could love her the way he might’ve if he was alive. To love without wanting to own. But it was clear now that wasn’t something he was capable of. 

“Lydia!” She heard him call from back the way she’d come. “Stop this, you’re being ridiculous.”

Lydia stopped in her tracks. _It’s now or never,_ she thought. She took a deep breath and chanted an incantation so softly the sound was almost completely swallowed by the void. When she finished a glowing green portal formed in front of her and she laughed in disbelief. She had found the portal summoning spell in an old book she’d found in a thrift shop years ago. She had studied it relentlessly but never dared use it. And now she had done it. She didn’t need to rely on mirrors anymore the way ghosts and ghouls did; she was stronger than that. 

“Lydia!” 

She turned to see Beetlejuice moving in on her. She didn’t hesitate. She jumped into the portal. 

* * *

Barbara knocked on Lydia’s door a few hours later to see if she was doing okay. “Lydia?” She called out. “It’s Barbara, can I come in?”  
When Lydia didn’t respond Barbara slowly opened the door and peeked in. It was empty. No ghost or goth in sight. Barbara turned around and went to search the rest of the house. They were nowhere to be found. She went back up to Lydia’s room again and searched all over as if she was going to find them hiding under the bed. She’d almost given up and then she noticed the mirror. 

Barbara stood before the mirror, taking it it’s rippling, water-like appearance. She creeped over and tentatively reached a hand out to touch it, when her fingers slipped through what should’ve been solid glass, she gasped. She turned and ran back up to the attic, throwing open the door, her eyes wide with fear.

“Barbara?” Adam said, putting down the book he was reading. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Barbara said, shaking her head. “But something’s wrong. Adam, something’s really wrong.”  


* * *

Lydia came tumbling out of the portal on the other side—the cemetery down the hill from the haunted house. Hours had clearly passed in the brief time she’d been in the void, because now the sky was dark and laden with storm clouds. The winds cried and she could smell an imminent rainstorm in the air. 

She scrambled to her feet to face the portal again, ready to say the incantation to close it, but she wasn’t quick enough. The demon stepped through with ease, not in a tumbling heap as she had. His face was painted with rage. Lydia gritted her teeth in frustration—in _exasperation._ She had tried so hard to finally outsmart him, but of course she knew now she never could.

“This is so stupid, Lydia,” he said walking towards her.

Lydia turned to run but before she had taken a single step, he was there, arms wrapped around her tight. He leaned down so his mouth was right by her ear. “Why do you keep doing this?” He hissed. “All these years and you still haven’t learned any better. There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. You always run and I always catch you. There’s no version of this where you don’t come home with me.”

Lydia struggled against his grasp. “Then let go,” she said. “If my defeat is inevitable, then humor me.”

The demon chuckled cruelly and relinquished his hold on her. Lydia jumped a few feet away from him and took in his cocky grin.

“Is this just a game to you?” She asked.

His grin melted away and the familiar look of rage reappeared. “No,” he snarled. 

“I’m never going to marry you,” she said. “I would’ve. If it had meant what you told me it did. But I can’t. Not now that I know. I can’t be at the whim of your anger.”

“You really think I’d ever utilize that part of it?” He asked, sorrow mixing with his rage. 

“I don’t know what I think!” She practically shouted, her own anger rising to the surface and seeping into her words. “You lied to me and then when I got angry at you about it, back then, that night, you…” her voice hitched as she remembered the way it had felt when he’d stolen the sound from her throat. Silencing her. It was the first time she’d tasted how truly vile his powers could be. If she married him, she’d be at risk of being a victim to them for the rest of her life. The rest of her _existence._

Beetlejuice realized what she was referring to and sighed. “That was a mistake,” he said. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“Your promises don’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, well neither do yours, babe.”

Lydia shook her head, fighting back tears. She heard thunder rumble in the distance and a drizzling rain began to fall. She took a step back and he took two forward.

“Just tell me one thing,” he growled. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you… _love me?”_ His voice nearly cracked on the word ‘love.’

At first Lydia was dumbfounded by the vulnerability he’d let slip, but it was quickly overpowered by her ever-growing anger. “You are so fucking stupid.”  
Beetlejuice’s eyes glowed with fury. “ _Excuse me_?”

Lydia daringly took a step toward him. “I have loved you ever since the night I met you.” She took another step closer to him. “I have loved you my whole life. I loved you before I knew you.” She took another step closer and another until they were face to face and her tears of rage and heartbreak were openly falling, her face now covered in them. “It’s always been you. I realized that the day I left. That there was no one else. It would be you or nothing.” 

Beetlejuice gazed down at her, the rain falling harder and harder, soaking her hair and making her makeup run. In that moment he hated how much he still wanted her. How beautiful he still found her. He knew everything would’ve been easier if he could’ve just let this breather go. But he had resigned himself years ago to the hopelessness of loving her.

“You never said it,” he growled. “That you loved me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “If you love me, why won’t you marry me?”

“Because!” She said, taking a step back again. “It’d be signing away my choice.”

“What choice?” He spat. “The choice to leave me someday?”

“Gods!” She screamed, knotting her hands in her own hair in frustration. “Do you hear a word I say? I don’t want to ever leave you. I’ll be alone if I do. I’ll never want anyone else—I’ll never _love_ anyone else. But if the only way to stay with the person I love is to let him own me—imprison me—well, then I’d rather be alone.”

Beetlejuice scoffed. “You’re so full of shit, babe. There’s a reason it was so easy to get you to say my name that night on the roof, you were drowning in your loneliness. Loneliness is it’s own kind of prison and you know that.”

Lydia shook her head. “I’d rather be lonely than trapped. Please,” she begged, “just let me go.”

She turned again to leave, hoping against all hope that this would finally be the end of what felt like an eternal argument. But of course it wasn’t.

“Gods, Lydia,” Beetlejuice said from behind her in a voice so sickeningly calm it made her stomach churn. She suddenly felt his cool breath on the back of her neck. “I love you. I love you so much that you know what I’m gonna do?”

Lydia froze where she stood, but not by choice. His magic was binding her to the spot. “Beetlejuice,” she said nervously. 

Then he appeared in front of her, a wickedness she seldom saw in him was glowing behind his stormy eyes. And then she saw what he had in his hand. A dagger.

“Beetlejuice,” she said again, not for want of sending him back to invisibility but out of true terror. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna kill you, baby.”

“What?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. _He’s kidding,_ she told herself. _This is a sick joke. A game. He doesn’t mean it._

“If you won’t be with me while you’re alive, then you’ve left me no choice.”

He raised the dagger above her head. 

* * *

The Maitlands could just barely make out Lydia and Beetlejuice’s figures from where they stood on the front porch, their ghostly restrictions not allowing them to leave the house. 

“What’re they doing?” Adam asked nervously. 

“I don’t know,” Barbara said, shaking her head and squinting to try and see them clearer.

But they both saw clear as day when Beetlejuice raised his hand high above Lydia, the outline of a knife in his grip.

“NO!” They screamed.

But of course there was no one around to hear them.

* * *

“Beetlejuice!” Lydia screamed.

“Together forever, baby.”  


And then everything went black.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked down—blood. There was blood blooming from her chest like red roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!!
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for supporting this story, it has meant the world to me<3
> 
> The sequel to this first book in my Beetlejuice Duology, 'Positivity is a Luxury' will be coming in July :) my posting schedule will once again be Mon, Wed, Fri, Sun for that book as well. Make sure you're subscribed to me so you don't miss when the first chapter goes live!
> 
> And just remember that this is not the end of Lydia & Beetlejuice's story, this is just the end of this half. 
> 
> "Everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, then it's not the end."
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL, from one problematic beetlebabe to another...IT'S SHOWTIME.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lydia slowly began to wake up. She heard the sounds of fingers typing and people talking. She felt from behind her closed lids, harsh fluorescent lights. _I’m in the hospital_ she realized. _That fucking demon has put me in the hospital._

She blinked her eyes open and took in the sight around her. She was in a waiting room, it was crowded and it didn’t look at all like the one in the hospital in town. She felt a horrible pang of pain in her chest and absentmindedly pressed her palm against the spot to try and make it stop. She felt hot, stickiness greet her skin. She looked down— _blood._ There was blood blooming from her chest like red roses. 

_He really fucking did it,_ she thought. _He stabbed me._ She looked at the waiting room again, trying to puzzle what hospital this was and how a stab wound to the chest wasn’t critical enough to get her taken back immediately. But then she began to notice that the other people in the waiting room didn’t look so hot either. In fact, most of them looked too seriously injured to be able to help at all. And what was stranger, is none of them seemed phased by the pain their injuries surely must’ve been causing them. 

She looked down at her own wound and a sickening realization began to sink in. Her stab wound was right over her heart. And it was deep. She gasped. _No, no, no,_ she thought frantically.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

She looked up to see Beetlejuice standing before her with two styrofoam cups of cheap coffee in his hands. 

“Beetlejuice,” she said slowly. The demon didn’t say anything. “Am I…” Still he said nothing, just waited for her to finish. She took a shaky breath. “Am I dead?”  
Beetlejuice sighed and handed her a cup of coffee, she took it gingerly but didn’t drink any. He sat down next to her, picking up a clipboard he’d left on the seat. He placed it in his lap and began reading it over.

“Beetlejuice,” she said again, turning towards him.

“Yes, babe?”

“Am I dead?”

“What do you think?” He asked without looking up from the paperwork. 

She looked down at her bloody chest again. “Please just answer me,” she whispered.

Beetlejuice put the clipboard down and looked at her. He sighed when he saw how horrified she was, her eyes glued to her wound. He reached out and took her free hand in his. She was disgusted with him, but too deep in shock to garner the energy to push his hand away.

“Yes, darling,” he said as evenly as he could. “You’re dead.”

She tore her eyes away from her wound to meet his gaze. 

“Did you…” her voice trailed off, unable to bring herself to even whisper the words.

“Yes, Lydia,” he said calmly. “I killed you.”

_BEETLEJUICE & LYDIA WILL RETURN IN BOOK TWO:_

_"POSITIVITY IS A LUXURY"_


End file.
